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4 














TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


I 




'AYfO 


“HANDKERCHIEFS WERE WAVED LONG BEFORE THE VES- 
SEL WAS MADE FAST ” 


Coming Sogce an& 
Coming 3Jog 

By HARRIET A. CHEEVER 

>» 

Author of “ Little Mr. Van Vere,” “ Rock Frog,” 

“ Madame Angora” “ Lou,” “ Maid Sally f 
“ Gipsy Jane,” etc. 

ILLUSTRATED BY 

BERTHA G. DAVIDSON 



Boston & Dana Estes 
& Company & Publishers 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two Copies Received 



JUN I IMU5 

^ Cepyngni tuny 

S 4 s ** te / / 905 

^JSUSS Cl Wc 

/msy 

COPY B. 


Noi 


L 


Copyright , iqog 

By Dana Estes & Company 

All rights reserved 



TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


COLONIAL PRESS 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. //. Simonds &■= Co. 
Boston y Mass., U. S. A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 


I. 

Tommy Joyce 





i i 

II. 

Tommy Joy . 





22 

III. 

The Night-school 





35 

IV. 

A Mean Man 





46 

V. 

An Unexpected Sail . 





58 

VI. 

A Lucky Accident 





69 

VII. 

Getting Dressed 





82 

VIII. 

A Stormy Morning 





93 

IX. 

Getting On . 





105 

X. 

A Merry Afternoon . 





1 17 

XI. 

A College Supper 





130 

XII. 

Hearing the Truth . 





142 

XIII. 

Running Away 





157 

XIV. 

Tommy Joy and Tommy 

Joyce 




171 

XV. 

The Proposal 





187 

XVI. 

Tommy Decides . 





202 

XVII. 

Afloat .... 





213 

XVIII. 

A Sharp Lesson . 





226 

XIX. 

Mammy Libby 





241 

XX. 

As They Sailed . 





256 

XXI. 

In Port 





269 

XXII. 

In a Strange Land . 





283 

XXIII. 

Home : The Tommy Brothers 




296 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 


“ Handkerchiefs were waved long before the 

vessel was made fast” (See page 302) Frontispiece 
“ ‘ See here, Tommy Joy, I’m going to tell you 

something ’ ” 

“ Covering poor Tommy with a sticky oil that 

SMELT ABOMINABLY ” 

“Mr. Joyce took the screaming boy” . 

“ Tommy lingered to neatly pile the dishes and 

WIPE OUT THE PUNCH - BOWL ” 

‘“I DON’T HAVE TO MIND YOU l "' .... 

“ The old black woman rolled her eyes and 

CLASPED HER HANDS ” 

“Held on to an iron brace for dear life” 


f 

28 / 

,/ 
96 y 

134 / 

236 7 

267 ^ 
271 / 


0 


TOMMY JOYCE AND 
TOMMY JOY 


CHAPTER I. 

TOMMY JOYCE 

TOMMY Joyce sat up straight and important 
on the high box beside the coachman, holding 
a long whip. 

The whip Tommy held was an imported 
affair, the handle being of ivory banded with 
gold; for the rest, a firm whip of English 
holly, the lash tapering to a mere point. 

The horses were “thoroughbreds,” perfectly 
matched bays, with thick black manes and 
long black tails. Tommy’s father was a smart 
and sensible man in most respects, who held 


ii 


12 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


that a full mane and a long tail were far more 
becoming and natural to a horse than either 
shaving or docking could possibly be. 

Every little while a fly would light on one 
of the arched necks or glossy flanks of the 
high-bred animals, and Tommy would flick 
it away with the end of the lash, then the 
horses would sidle and prance, and the coach- 
man would call in a soothing, wheedling tone, 
“ Now, now, Hector, boy! There, there, King 
John! ” and by handling the lines in an able, 
expert way, he would quiet the spirited 
beauties. 

But flies did not light often enough to suit 
Master Tommy, so he began amusing himself 
by touching up the horses merely for the fun 
of seeing them dance. He was not wise 
enough to know that a fine horse will stand 
a slight flicking and not mind it, but too many 
even light touches of the whip are not to be 
allowed. 

So it soon came about that Jameson, the 
coachman, with all his skill and coaxing, had 


TOMMY JOYCE 


13 


hard work trying to manage Hector and King 
John. 

“ Don’t do that any more, Master Tommy,” 
he said ; “ the horses is getting restive. I 
won’t be able to make them stand at all if 
you’re keeping up a-pestering of them that 
way.” 

The horses had scarcely calmed down when 
Tommy slyly flicked them again. 

“ If you’re for doing that again,” said Jame- 
son, without turning his head, “ you won’t 
hold that whip long.” 

“ Why won’t I? ” asked Tommy. 

“ Because I won’t be letting you,” was the 
sturdy reply. 

Now, you know it was said a moment ago 
that Tommy’s father was a sensible man in 
most respects, and so he was, yet there was 
one direction in which up to this time he had 
not shown himself a very wise man. He could 
make money, oh, a great deal of it, could 
control his fine steeds and make his collie and 
his hound obey him, but when it came to gov- 


14 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

erning his own young son, well, Tommy gov- 
erned his papa, instead of its being the other 
way and his papa’s governing him. 

Tommy’s mother was a bright, pretty lady, 
still young and fond of gaiety. She attended 
parties, gave parties, and went about so much 
that, although she looked after Tommy’s 
clothes, and saw that he went each day to his 
private school, she yet was not so much ac- 
quainted with the boy, his manners and dis- 
position, as it would have been for his good 
to have had her. 

Of course Tommy had his own way in 
almost everything. The servants did not like 
him at all, because as soon as they crossed him 
in anything he would scream, great boy that 
he was, eleven years old, and when he 
screamed his mother would rush into the din- 
ing-room or nursery, exclaiming, “ What are 
you doing to that poor child? ” And no mat- 
ter how much Tommy might be in the wrong, 
his story was always believed, and the servants, 
not headstrong Tommy, were reproved. 


TOMMY JOYCE 


15 


It was no wonder that the servants kept 
leaving, still the place was an easy one, the 
wages good, and new maids were constantly 
appearing. 

There was just one direction, however, in 
which Tommy was a little afraid of his father, 
for no matter how easy it might be to procure 
help for parlor, kitchen, and up-stairs work, 
it was quite a different affair getting the right 
kind of a coachman. And Jameson was a 
great favorite with Papa Joyce. For did he 
not know how to tend, feed, and doctor a horse 
with any other “ whip ” in the land? He did, 
indeed! 

The man was part Irish, part Scotch, blunt, 
faithful, and possessed of a goodly store of 
strong, sound common sense. Moreover, he 
was the possessor of a Scotchman’s special 
gift, a firm will of his own. 

So it had come about that more than once 
Mr. Joyce had said to his young son: 

“ Tommy, there is one thing you are not to 
do! That is, trouble Jameson in any way. 


1 6 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Now, remember, there will be trouble for you 
if you disobey.” And when he said that, Mr. 
Joyce’s dark eyes had grown larger and darker 
than usual, and Tommy had the feeling that 
perhaps he had better let Jameson alone. 

Ah, do you not see how easy it would have 
been for this kind father to have made Tommy 
behave himself in the house, at the table, and 
at school? But Mr. Joyce did not stop then 
to think this all out. 

This sunny afternoon in the spring Mrs. 
Joyce was making calls, and as Tommy 
wanted to sit beside Jameson while she was 
in the different houses, she had allowed him 
to, although she would rather have left him 
at home. But as he showed signs of kicking 
and screaming if she said no, she had allowed 
him to be dressed and take his perch on the 
box. 

And now Jameson, as you have seen, had 
told Tommy that if he kept on worrying the 
horses he would not hold the whip long. 

Tommy considered. He was not used to 


TOMMY JOYCE 


17 


being told he could not do things. Yet he 
remembered just then how Jameson had dared 
to toss him — him , Tommy Joyce, out of the 
coach-house one day in the winter, when he 
would insist on turning the nozzle of the hose 
toward the carriage just washed. And no 
matter how loudly he roared, Jameson didn’t 
care. Even when his mother attempted to 
interfere, the man said, respectfully but 
firmly: 

“ If the coach-house door is unlocked, 
ma’am, and the laddie goes in, I leave the 
place as soon as the master cooms home, and 
I can hand over the keys.” 

Then Mrs. Joyce tried to reason with the 
screaming boy, but Tommy would not listen, 
so she gave up in despair, and let him roar 
as long as he saw fit. At last he went off 
muttering that he’d “tell papa,” and Jame- 
son went on whistling and grooming Hector 
and King John until they shone like satin. 

Yes, this little affair came into Tommy’s 


1 8 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

mind as he sat next the coachman’s seat outside 
Colonel Larrington’s house, whip in hand. 

Ah, but he had Jameson in his power now, 
for what could he do if he, Tommy Joyce, 
took to screaming right in the street? Would 
he not be obliged to let him keep the whip? 
Of course he would. 

The horses were standing a quiet, dignified 
pair, when Tommy flicked Hector a little 
more smartly than before. The horse plunged, 
reared, and sidled roughly against King John. 
Jameson, with quick sagacity, started them 
down the street, and on the instant Tommy 
felt the whip jerked out of his hand. 

“You just give that back!” he screamed, 
making a dive toward Jameson’s whip hand. 

The man brought the carriage to a sudden 
stop, and stood up. 

“Will ye behave yeself ? ” he asked, with 
a swift nod toward the boy, “ or will I take 
ye by the crop, and hand ye into the street? 
Quick, now, which will ye do?” 


TOMMY JOYCE 


19 


“I’ll scream if you touch me!” roared 
Tommy. 

“ Scream till ye bust and be welcome,” re- 
turned the man. “ Will ye behave yeself, or 
will I jump ye down?” He made a move- 
ment toward the boy’s arm, still holding a 
tight rein on the impatient horses. 

“ You let me alone,” repeated Tommy, sul- 
lenly. “ If you touch me I’ll tell papa.” 

“ It’s meself will have something to say to 
your father th’ night,” answered Jameson; 
“ but, say, now, will ye behave? ” 

“Yes!” screamed Tommy, so angrily that 
Hector and King John eyed each other in- 
quiringly. 

Jameson sat down, turned the horses, and in 
a moment or two they stood again before 
Colonel Larrington’s door. 

Tommy considered again. In his inner- 
most, turbulent young soul he much preferred 
not having Jameson “say something” to his 
father come night. And then, if there really 
is a strong touch of what is fine and manly in 


20 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


a boy’s nature, it will be sure to show itself 
when anything calls it up. Tommy’s father 
was a manly man, even if he was not very 
wise in managing his only child. And his 
mother was a lady, even if she was really 
weak in yielding right along to the whims of a 
young boy. 

So the good part of Tommy’s boyish 
make-up all at once came to the surface; that 
is, the better part of his nature suddenly rose 
above the wilful, disagreeable part. He 
straightened himself. - “ Jameson,” he said, “ I 
don’t want you to tell papa I howled that 
way to you on the carriage, nor that I kept 
plaguing the horses. And, Jameson, if I’ll 
promise not to touch either of the horses 
again, will you let me hold the whip? Will 
you please let me hold it? ” 

Jameson was wary. “And do ye promise 
that, Master Tommy? ” 

“ Honor bright, Jameson. I won’t touch 
either of them again.” 

Without a word Jameson turned the handle 


TOMMY JOYCE 


21 


of the whip so that Tommy could clutch it in 
the right place. 

“ Thank you,” said the boy. 

And it was while Tommy was again holding 
the whip, lash up, handle resting on his knee, 
himself proud, high-seated, and important, 
that we first saw him. 

And it was also at the moment that we first 
saw him that a little lean, poorly dressed, but 
cheerful-looking lad, strolling up Dartmouth 
Avenue, spied the well-dressed, important- 
looking boy seated at the coachman’s side. 

“ My eye! ” softly exclaimed the boy on the 
pavement, “ but isn’t he the jolly swell? 
Doesn’t belong to the coachy though he sits 
’longside of him. He’s the chick of me lord 
as owns the carriage and the horses. My eye! 
but it must be fine sitting aloft and eying the 
fellows in the street. I wonder what’s his 
name. Mine’s Tommy. I bet his might be 
Arch i-bald! ” 


CHAPTER II. 


TOMMY JOY 

Down at Merchant’s Wharf, earlier on the 
same day when we first saw Tommy Joyce, 
the lean, tall, poorly dressed boy who said his 
name was “ Tommy,” was sitting on a keg 
watching some men at work. 

A low-lying fishing-vessel was Tommy’s 
chief object of attraction just then. The men 
were hauling kegs of mackerel from deck to 
dock, and other men bounced the kegs on 
wagons waiting to take them away. 

“ Now, then,” called a man in a rough blue 
suit and shaggy overcoat, “ clear up as quick 
as possible; the captain wants to get under 
sail again to-morrow if he can. ’Tisn’t twice 
in five years that such a haul of mackerel can 
be made at beginning of April. There’s dol- 


22 


TOMMY JOY 


23 


lars in every lineful. Hurry up! The more 
you get the more you make.” 

A sailor on board sung out, “ Ay, ay, sir,” 
and at it they went, some half-dozen men in 
all, wearing thick sea-clothes, and swinging to 
the work of clearing up the slippery deck. 

At present there was nothing for. this 
Tommy-boy to do but just gaze at the busy 
figures on the fishing-vessel, wishing, perhaps, 
that he was old enough to lend a hand and 
be busy with the others. But the patient little 
figure on the rickety keg did not stir until a 
whistle blew, a clock at a distance struck 
twelve, and the men all around the wharf 
either hurried off to get their dinners at some 
near eating-house, or opened the dinner-pails 
that in most cases they had with them. 

Then, with the swiftness of a cat, the boy 
slipped down, ran over to the fishing-boat, 
and, going fearlessly over the slanting board 
leading to the deck, was almost instantly 
beside the heavy man who had been giving 
orders. 


24 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


“Oh, say, Mr. Frankfort,” he burst out, 
“ isn’t there something I could be doing to 
help? I haven’t catched a penny so fur to- 
day, and Mis’ Cullen, she won’t be giving 
me a hammock to-night unless I’m payin’ 
three cents for it.” 

“How about that mission man?” asked 
Mr. Frankfort. 

“ Hoh!” cried Tommy, “you don’t ’xpect 
I’m goin’ for a pauper or a heathen to be 
taken up to some mission rooms and given 
some biscuits and good advice, like I was a 
cripple without two hands to work with, do 
you? I’m goin’ to support myself long’s my 
hands and my heels hold out! And I’ll fight 
it out on that line till I’m seventy, if I has 
to.” 

The burly man laughed and clapped the 
boy on the back. “ Good for you, I admire 
your independence, little Mister Joy!” he 
said; then he sobered as he added, “ I wish 
to Gideon there was something I could give 
you to do, but, bless you, I have to keep things 


TOMMY JOY 


25 


swishing about the wharf, and there’s nothing 
a chit like you could do on a fishing-smack.” 

“ I could scrub the deck,” said Tommy, 
hopefully. 

“No, you couldn’t, boy. Your pipes of 
arms couldn’t manage the tremendous mops 
and holystones they swash around with. But 
never you mind, sonny, keep up good heart, 
and you’ll find jobs you can do will come roll- 
ing in with the tide by and by.” 

He laid a chunk of buttered bread on 
Tommy’s knee as he spoke, for the two had 
seated themselves on the rough deck bench. 
“ I seem to have an overdose of lunch,” he 
remarked, as he bestowed the bread, and then, 
after a few moments of silence, he asked, 
slowly: 

“ Why don’t you try going to school, 
Tommy-lad? I’d kinder like to see you get 
on, what with your pluck and good nature and 
all that. But I think a chap that means to 
really get ahead in this knock-about world 
has got to know something.” 


26 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Tommy gradually stood upright. “ Well, 
now, I’m a handsome objec’ to talk about goin’ 
to school, ain’t I? Look along there! ” 

He thrust out a limb on which was a long 
trouser leg, faded, worn, and frayed. On the 
foot was a cracked and pitifully shabby shoe. 
Then he thrust out the other limb, showing 
another trouser leg even more worn than its 
mate, and the second shoe was surely no im- 
provement on the other. 

“ Then please send your eye travellin’ up 
my jacket,” added Tommy, “and — which 
side of the picture do you like the worst? ” 
Mr. Frankfort laughed. The quiet drol- 
lery of the boy amused him, as it had often 
done before. Something about Tommy’s 
natural smartness also touched him. 

“ Who was your father or mother, Tommy, 
do you know? ” he asked. 

“ As to the daddy of me,” Tommy replied, 
between complacent bites of the bread, which, 
by the way, was very welcome, “ Mis’ Tucker, 
she said he was took off by a fever when I 


TOMMY JOY 27 

was a kid about two. My mammy. I can re- 
member: she ha(T eyt s"” „ 

“ Indeed! ” said the dockman, dryly. 

“ Y-e-s, she used to look at me sort of long 
at a time,” added Tommy, cheerfully. “ Mis’ 
Tucker said she was pretty sick a long time, 
but there was a bit of money daddy left, so 
she had plenty to eat and to drink, and lots of 
medicine, as long as she lived. That was first- 
rate.” 

“Yes, so ’twas,” said, Mr. Frankfort, 
heartily. L** 

“ Then,” continued Tommy, “ I went er- 
rants for Mis’ Tucker, and .helped Vend the 
baby, and could set the table in great shape. 
Mis’ Tucker, shd never spoke a cross word to 
me; she used to say we helped each other; 
but her old man, he got work in arfotherTown 
and didn’t want her to take me along, so I 
took to doing errants, carrying bundles, or 
most anything, so’s to get bites of food and 
enough to pay Mis’ Cullen for a comer at 
night. Land!” crowed Tommy, swelling a 


28 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


little, “ I’ve kept myself for years, and learnt 
some things besides!” 

Mr. Frankfort stole a long look at the boy 
as he sat munching the bread and leaning 
forward. No mistake, there was something 
taking about Tommy. He, too, “ had eyes,” 
as the man beside him suddenly discovered, 
great, lustrous bfown eyes, clear, honest, and 
independent. Something stirred within the 
clumsy man’s frame that made him swallow 
too quickly, and for a moment he choked. 
Then he began, bravely: 

“ See here, Tommy Joy, I’m going to tell 
you something.” 

“ And all the little boy’s ears was a-lis- 
tenin’,” replied Tommy. 

Mr. Frankfort smiled faintly, and went on: 

“ Once I was married, Tommy.” 

“ You don’t say! ” the boy replied, without 
turning his head. 

“Yes, I was married. ’Tisn’t a very nice 
thing to confess, but after a little while I 
didn’t like my wife very well.” 



‘“SEE HERE, TOMMY JOY, l’M GOING TO TELL YOU SOME- 
THING ’ ” 










































TOMMY JOY 


29 


“ Poss’ble? ” queried Tommy. 

“ Yes; fact was, she would scold all I could 
do. I tried every way to please her, but — 
well, she would scold, that’s all there was 
about it. I felt pretty oad when she took 
sick, and if she’d ’a’ listened to me she might 
be alive and well now, but when she wasn’t 
very strong, off she would go to visit he/ 
' sister, and rhe cold she took carried her Qjjf/’ 

“ Well, there was one good thing, ’’Jrommy 
said, consolingly; “she stopped sccft/ing.” 

“Yes, so she did, boy, but I’d rather ’a’ 
heard her scold than had her carried off that 
way. But there was a baby three months old, 
a little man-child, and for six months I cud- 
dled the mite of a chap well. Oh, he had the 
best of care,” argued the old wharfman, as 
if in self-comfort. 

“ Yes, indeed,” he talked softly on, “ I paid 
a good woman to look out for the little squirrel 
while I was away daytimes, and I never missed 
an evening or a night away from him the 
whole six months he stayed with me. And the 


30 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

last three months the bit of a man knew me; 
think of that, Tommy! He knew me, and 
he’d crow and stretch out his soft little arms 
to come to me the minute he heard my voice 
come evening. Sundays I took him walking 
nearly all day long those last three months; 
it was summer, and fine in the public gardens. 

“ Then he kinder,” — Mr. Frankfort cleared 
his throat, — “he kinder began teething aw- 
ful hard, and — and — no use telling it in too 
many words, but one night I went home, and 
there wasn’t any little man-child any more. 

“ Now, you see, Tommy, if he’d ’a’ lived, 
I certainly would had him go to school. And 
I tell you what, Tommy Joy, if you’ll go to 
night-school reg’lar, I’ll fix it so you can sleep 
nights in a nice little bunk I happen to know 
of on that pilot-boat over there. You see I’m 
getting to be a pretty old boy, I am, and I 
know that men, neither young nor old, can 
make the right kind of headway unless they 
have book-learning. I’d like to help you other 
ways, lad, but what with the business of the 


TOMMY JOY 


31 


dock, the lading and unlading, the clearing 
up and ordering things in general that an as- 
sistant wharfmaster must attend to, I sha’n’t 
be able to do much extry for a good six months 
to come. Meantime, you could be learning 
your spelling, ’rithmetic, and geography, that 
is, if you take up school.” 

Tommy’s mind worked rapidly, and, as Mr. 
Frankfort turned toward him, he said, rather 
reluctantly: 

“ I might be goin’ to night-school, p’r’aps, 
only I wouldn’t stand the other boys badgerin’ 
me. Do you ’xpect they’d try it on?” 


“ No, oh, no, Tommy, the teachers are fine, 
and they don’t stand much nonsense, I can 
tell you. If boys or girls can’t. behave them- 
selves, out they go.” 

“ What do they do to them?” 

“ Bounce them. Won’t have them there. 
But them as goes to night-school generally 
goes to learn. Why, p’r’aps you don’t know 
it, Tommy Joy, but grown-up boys and girls 
often go, feeling more ashamed of not know- 


32 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

ing how to read and sign their names than 
they do of tending school after they’re twenty 
or more. I call that having the right kind of 
pride, I do!” 

“Yes, I ’xpect ’tis,” agreed Tommy. 

“Well,” said Mr. Frankfort, closing his 
dinner-box with a snap, “ if my bit of a man- 
child had stayed, I’d had him a scholar. I 
would if I’d ’a’ dug stones for it; and, seeing 
I can’t give advice to my own little chap, 
’pears to me the next best thing I could do 
would be to try setting some other cub to do- 
ing the best he can for himself. You haven’t 
got parents to help you along, and I’ve no 
man-child to look after. Pretty cur’ous how 
things go on in this world, but I reckon there’s 
some other place where things gets evened up. 
Youngsters like you don’t care for that kind 
of talk, but I suppose you’d just as lief begin 
going to school to-night, wouldn’t you?” 

“ P’r’aps I better wait till next week,” said 
Tommy. 

“No, you don’t!” returned the big man, 


TOMMY JOY 


33 


sharply. “ I’ve business to attend to evenings 
part of the time. To-night I could go up 
to the school with you and sorter introduce 
you, but next week I might be in kingdom 
come, then you’d probably change your mind. 
I’ve got a pretty set idea that you could learn 
quick if you chose to, and, if I was you, I’d 
get able to take care of myself in first-class 
shape one of these days, and train with men, 
real men, the best sort — ” 

“ Smart dickey, biled shirt, fancy trousers, 
and shiny shoes,” interpolated Tommy. 

“Yes, oh, yes, lad,” went on good-natured 
Mr. Frankfort, “ those are the outside things 
that go with good brains and such, but I 
would, I’d train with the best of men if I 
was you, and had most my whole life before 
me.” 

“ All right, I’ll go to-night,” said Tommy. 

“ Then be here at seven o’clock plump. 
School goes in, I think, at fifteen minutes 
past.” 

“ All right, I’ll be here,” repeated Tommy. 


34 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Then feeling the comfort of having had the 
bread and butter, off he started for a long 
trudge. 

Active boys, with nothing particular to do, 
like to saunter off, often tramping miles in 
their deliberate rambles, and, although it was 
more than two miles from Merchant’s Wharf 
to Dartmouth Avenue, Tommy Joy was in 
ample time to see Tommy Joyce as he sat 
quite like a little fashion-plate beside Jame- 
son, holding the imported whip. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE NIGHT - SCHOOL 

PROMPTLY at seven o’clock in the evening 
Tommy Joy presented himself at Merchant’s 
Wharf. The child had made a piteous at- 
tempt at “ slicking up,” as he termed it. His 
face and hands were clean, his hair laid flat 
as a plaster to his head, while some of the 
more glaring spots had been rubbed from his 
clothes. 

But by no possible effort could Tommy’s 
jacket, shoes, or trousers be made to look really 
respectable, and the boy more than half knew 
it. As he trudged along beside his stalwart 
friend, he said, in what he endeavored to make 
an off-hand manner: 

“ You don’t s’pose any those fash’n’ble jays 
35 


36 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

will be poking fun at me, do you? ” The idea 
still troubled him. 

“You won’t be likely to find them there. 
But supposing they did? Don’t you think 
there’s man enough about little Mister Joy 
to stand it? We have to stand lots of things 
first and last.” 

“ Oh, I could tackle one feller easy enough 
I’ve a notion, but s’posen a batch of them took 
to tormentin’ me, what show would a lone star 
have then? ” 

“ They won’t torment you, Tommy, if you 
behave right to them, leastwise, I don’t believe 
they will. But that’s just one reason why I 
thought I’d better come to-night. I shall see 
your teacher, and let him know you’re an 
urchin as has a friend who means to look after 
him. But I say again, you’ll find night-school 
isn’t made up of fash’n’ble young people, not 
by any means. There will be other young lads 
there too poor to wear fine clothes, or to care 
to see other youngsters wearing them. Just 
you mind your lessons and study away, and 


THE NIGHT-SCHOOL 


37 


there won’t any one be allowed to disturb 
you.” 

“ Hope to mercy I won’t have a she- 
teacher! ” said Tommy. 

“ Most likely you won’t,” was the hopeful 
reply, “ but here we are at Cornhill Road, and 
that there building all of brick with stone 
trimmings is where they have the night- 
school.” 

Tommy looked surprised. He had had a 
vague idea that the school would be held in 
a shabby building and a side street. But here 
was a fine structure, businesslike in appear- 
ance, and standing midst other important- 
looking houses on a central street. Tommy’s 
bright, keen eyes looked just a little worried 
as Mr. Frankfort pushed open the great out- 
side door and entered a wide hall. 

A man came forward, asking: “ Please, sir, 
who would you like to see? ” 

“ One of the primary teachers,” Mr. Frank- 
fort replied. 

The janitor disappeared, and in a moment 


38 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

a side door opened, and Tommy looked with 
instant admiration at the fine, alert face and 
tall figure of a well-dressed young man who 
stepped into the hall. 

“ Good evening, sir,” said the young 
teacher, holding out a cordial hand to the big 
man before him. Something of the sea may 
have lingered about the wharfman’s appear- 
ance, for the young man asked jovially: 

“ And is this a little fresh fish you have 
brought us to train?” 

His dancing eyes seemed to take in all of 
Tommy at a glance, and Tommy smiled up 
into his face. 

“ Oh, my soul, yes, he’s fresh enough,” Mr. 
Frankfort replied, entirely at ease on the in- 
stant. “ He’s so fresh you can begin with him 
just past the alphabet, though I believe he can 
read some. But I’m of opinion that Tommy 
Joy is a boy as could learn a good deal if he 
was a-mind to try. And, seeing as his father 
and mother are gone, and the little lad is all 
alone in the big world, and I haven’t either 


THE NIGHT - SCHOOL 


39 


man or woman child to look after, I sorter 
want Tommy to get ahead and be able to do 
for himself some day; I mean do something 
rather handsome. Nobody’ d find the lad hard 
to manage, I don’t believe.” 

“ Shake hands,” said the bright - eyed 
teacher, moving nearer to Tommy as Mr. 
Frankfort finished his speech, and at this tact- 
ful show of good comradeship Tommy felt 
all shyness slipping away. 

“You see,” Mr. Frankfort went on again, 
“ the little chap was afraid the other boys 
might hector him to begin with, but I told 
him not to be afraid of that. I reckon when 
they find he lets them alone, they’ll be all 
right.” 

“ Oh, certainly,” said the teacher, sober- 
ing; “ we don’t have much hectoring or teas- 
ing here. You show yourself a quiet, studious 
boy, Tommy Joy, and we’ll see about any one 
who attempts to tease you.” 

A look stole into the teacher’s eyes that poor, 
lawless Tommy thought was splendid, but that 


40 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

he did not feel in the least afraid of. Then 
Mr. Frankfort sidled away, and Tommy fol- 
lowed the young man, who paused near the 
door to say: 

“ I am known here as Mr. Sudbury,” and 
the next thing Tommy looked around, seeing 
boys of all ages, from those some younger than 
himself to such as might be called young men. 
He was given a seat midway in the room, and 
immediately Mr. Sudbury wheeled a great 
blackboard forward on the platform, and be- 
gan writing short sentences on it. 

He did not appear to notice Tommy par- 
ticularly, yet he knew when the boy repeated 
the words correctly. To his own surprise, 
Tommy found that he liked the lesson, and 
he was feeling genuine interest in it when a 
sharp prick in the back of his neck made him 
jump. 

Mr. Sudbury had turned to add a word or 
two on the board just as the prick stung 
Tommy’s neck. The boy gave a swift, angry 
look around, merely to see a stolid-looking 


THE NIGHT-SCHOOL 


41 


young fellow of about fifteen years gazing 
stupidly at the blackboard. 

“Now,” said Mr. Sudbury, “I want to 
know what these words are which I have just 
written, but first, Sam Sibbel can go to the 
back of the room and sit in the corner chair.” 

“ Ain’t done nothin’,” muttered a surly 
voice directly back of Tommy. 

“ You will please move quickly! ” said the 
master, sharply, and at the brisk command the 
stolid-faced boy at Tommy’s rear went shuf- 
fling off to the end of the long room. 

After that the lesson proceeded quietly. 
Words of longer syllables were taken up, and 
sentences formed into paragraphs, and, for- 
getting the prick and his momentary anger, 
Tommy took keen pleasure in finding out how 
much and how little he knew. 

When school ended, promptly at nine 
o’clock, Mr. Sudbury asked Tommy to remain 
a few moments. It did not escape the master’s 
notice that Sam Sibbel was hanging around, 
evidently with the intention of having it out 


42 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

with the new pupil, whose angry jump had 
shown the teacher his mischievous act. As 
Sam slouched by the entry door, Mr. Sudbury 
called him back. 

“ Sam,” he said, “ if there is any complaint 
of your conduct toward any pupil who comes 
here, either in the building or outside of it, 
I shall see your father at once, and make no 
effort to prevent whatever he sees fit to do. 
If he insists on your coming here, I shall in- 
sist on having good behavior.” 

“ Ain’t goin’ to do anythin’,” said the sullen 
Sam, as he again left the room, and Tommy 
had no further trouble then or afterward from 
the big boy who evidently stood in wholesome 
fear of his father. 

An examination lasting about ten minutes 
showed Mr. Sudbury how far Tommy’s few 
self-given lessons had brought him, and he 
encouraged the boy by assuring him that he 
already knew more than many lads much 
older than himself, and that, if he was willing 
to do some studying through the day, he saw 


THE NIGHT - SCHOOL 


43 


nothing to prevent his getting on rapidly and 
making fine headway. 

“ I like it first-rate,” said Tommy, rather 
awkwardly, “ and if I had the books, I would 
study some daytimes.” 

“ Very well,” Mr. Sudbury replied, “ after 
you have been here a week, I will lend you 
some books on my own account. I cannot lend 
these that belong to the school, but, when I see 
a lad willing to help himself, I am very glad 
to give him further help.” 

“ That’s first-rate,” said Tommy, not really 
knowing just how to express himself, yet feel- 
ing pleased and grateful at the young master’s 
kind interest and offer of help. 

Tommy had the pence with which to pay 
Mrs. Cullen for a lodging that night, and at 
half-past nine his jacket was hung on a peg, 
and he was swinging in a hammock, a brown 
blanket giving sufficient warmth. 

The next morning he ran swiftly to Mer- 
chant’s Wharf. Mr. Frankfort was steeped 
in business affairs, several matters claiming 


44 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

his attention at once, but he stopped to wave 
a welcome to the sprightly boy. 

“ See you in a minute! ” he shouted, “ but 
there’s a stevedore must get some instructions 
first.” 

As usual, Tommy had to exercise patience, 
but, when Mr. Frankfort came rolling toward 
him, he exclaimed before his friend had a 
chance to ask a question: 

“ Oh, ’twas jolly! The master was just 
bully! He’s goin’ to lend me books after I 
get on a bit. And he spied a pike as was try- 
ing to guy me, and sent him spinnin’ to the 
back of the room in no time. It’s just great, 
night-school is, and Mr. Sudbury, he’s a 
corker! Now I’m a-goin’ to learn, I am, and 
if I can just get some decent clothes, I bet 
I can begin to get ahead pretty fast; teacher 
says I can.” 

Mr. Frankfort began in a voice full of sym- 
pathy and kindness, and speaking in a low, 
friendly tone: 

“ I guess if I was you, Tommy-boy, I 


THE NIGHT-SCHOOL 


45 


wouldn’t say * bully/ nor I wouldn’t quite 
speak of a boy as a ‘ pike.’ Seems to me Mr. 
Sudbury wouldn’t just like it. You know I 
don’t set up for any kind of a learned man, 
and goodness knows I don’t want to, but when 
a lad begins to get schooling, he drops street 
talk, and begins to use nice words. It does 
me good to see you taking hold and liking 
your lessons. Whew! you’ll learn enough to 
be President p’r’aps, if you stick to your books. 
Now come over to the tugboat, and I’ll take 
you to Captain Swart. He’s going to see that 
you have a bunk nights for the present, prob- 
ably all summer. There may be some odd 
jobs you can pick up on the boat, but at any 
rate, Captain Swart has agreed to let you sleep 
aboard the Peggy Lane without pay. I did 
him some favors once on a time, now he’s glad 
to favor me in turn. Come on, Tommy Joy.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


A MEAN MAN 

At the foot of Bond Street, not far from 
Merchant’s Wharf, were two down - town 
markets, and mornings it was Tommy’s habit 
to visit first one, then the other, offering to do 
any errands that might be wanted, receiving 
in payment a few pennies or some food. 

He had in very truth “ kept himself,” as 
he told Mr. Frankfort, for more than three 
years, ever since his aid as nurse and table- 
setter came to an end. Tommy was very keen 
on the scent for errands. Many the dime he 
had picked up by carrying bundles from 
market to ferry-house, and also by carrying 
packages for people who came down Bond 
Street, burdened and tired, on their way to 
the ferry. 


46 


A MEAN MAN 


47 


Very little money had satisfied the boy’s 
needs up to this time. If only he had the five 
cents which secured a hammock for the night 
at Mrs. Cullen’s, and one full meal a day, he 
was satisfied. And Tommy also wanted plenty 
of time for hanging about the wharf, always 
a place of great attraction to the unwatched 
boy. 

Yes, entirely unwatched, for no one on 
earth cared whence or when Tommy came or 
went; he was simply free to come and go like 
any other street waif, a goodly number of 
whom are to be found in every great city. 
Nor are these young waifs usually unhappy, 
for you see they have never known anything 
different from their own way of living, and 
cannot miss what they never had. 

Tommy Joy knew almost nothing about a 
sheltered home, good clothing, or plenty of 
food, yet he had picked up some things in a 
natural, bright way. He had learned to read 
and spell a little just by making out the signs 
on buildings and the names of the river craft; 


48 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

it also would have been pretty hard to have 
cheated Tommy in the matter of making 
change. He liked his free life, and, not being 
a bad or vicious boy, did not get into trouble. 
He did not really envy Tommy Joyce when 
he came upon him perched high beside his 
father’s coachman, dressed in the finest of 
clothes. 

But to-day it was a different Tommy Joy 
that ran up Bond Street from the one of yes- 
terday. The former Tommy did not care 
whether he earned much or not; this new 
Tommy cared very much. True, they were 
one and the same boy in some respects, having 
the same dewy brown eyes, well-formed fea- 
tures, and the same little form, but the look 
and the manner of the Tommy of to-day 
showed that something new had come about, 
something that brought fresh ideas and an 
ambition unknown before into the careless, 
roving life. 

And this had happened: Tommy had sud- 
denly waked up and seen what a fine thing 


A MEAN MAN 


49 


it would be could he sometime become such 
a young man as Mr. Sudbury, — well-dressed, 
knowing, able to be over others either in the 
schoolroom or elsewhere. 

He did not think this all out clearly, oh, 
dear, no, he only felt it in his young heart, 
yet there was one thing he did know and was 
perfectly sure of! 

He wanted a decent suit of clothes, a new 
cap, and a pair of whole shoes. The suit 
might be a cheap one, the cap and shoes 
needn’t cost much, but get these things he 
must, and as soon as he possibly could. 

He had been with Mr. Frankfort early in 
the morning to the tugboat, where he was in- 
troduced to Captain Swart. Mr. Frankfort 
had seen the captain the previous evening, 
and explained his wish to secure a bunk for 
Tommy if one could be spared. The cap- 
tain had been glad to do a favor for his friend. 

“ So this is the kid who is to sleep on the 
Peggy Lane , is it?” called the captain, who 
acted as pilot in towing vessels down-stream 


50 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

or down the harbor. “ Yes, yes, reckon I’ve 
seen him before. Sorter boarded around on 
the wharf for a season or two, haven’t you, 
sonny? ” 

Tommy grinned, and the next moment Cap- 
tain Swart called again: “ Look out there! 
’Fraid you’ll have to cut short your morning 
call; yonder coal barge has got to be towed 
down river, and we’re off soon as we get the 
tow-lines hitched good and taut. Bye, bye, 
little Joy. Hop aboard again when the stars 
come out. It’s pretty cold outside yet, but 
the Peggy has a blanket or two in the locker.” 

Tommy liked the jolly voice of Captain 
Swart, as he went pounding about on the tow- 
boat, slipping in a word of command here, 
tightening a screw there, testing the steam 
power, and opening and shutting valves. As 
they left the boat, Mr. Frankfort said: 

“Now then, march right on to the Peggy 
Lane to-night after your school’s through, and 
they’ll take care of you.” 

Then it was that the new Tommy marched 


A MEAN MAN 


51 

up Bond Street, eager for pennies and dimes. 
He had had no breakfast, and, knowing he 
could not travel far without having something 
to satisfy the cravings of a healthy, hungry 
boy, he went first to the market, asking if 
he could do an errand and so earn a break- 
fast. 

“ Well, now, see here,” shouted a new clerk, 
stepping out from a poultry stall, “ did you 
say you wanted to do an errand, Mister Tat- 
ters? ” 

“ Yes, I wanted to do an errand,” said 
Tommy, “but my name isn’t Tatters. I’m 
Tommy Joy, that’s who I am.” The boy 
spoke stoutly and with some dignity. 

“Good for you, young Joy!” said the 
clerk, laughing at Tommy’s objection to be- 
ing called names. “You see, I’d never been 
properly introduced before, but I want a gob- 
bler to catch the next train out from across 
the ferry. Our boy seems uncommon slow 
this morning, but if I give you a big package, 
well tied and tagged, will you give it to the 


52 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

baggage-master at the ferry station, and tell 
him it must go by the next train sure? ” 

“ For certain I will,” said Tommy. “ Do 
him up quick, and off he goes.” 

“ Oh, he’s all ready,” said the clerk, catch- 
ing up a great paper bundle. “You’ll have 
to hurry, boat goes in five minutes. Here you 
are, scuttle now; lose the train, and you lose 
your breakfast! ” 

The voice of the clerk sounded distant to 
Tommy as he finished his directions, for the 
poor, miserable shoes of the street boy went 
clattering wildly along the pavement, as he 
flew toward the ferry-house only a block away. 
The distance was nothing; finding the busy 
baggage-master, and getting his promise that 
the great plucked bird should “ catch the next 
train ” was what took the swiftly passing mo- 
ments. Yet Tommy raced from point to 
point, found him, insisted on telling his er- 
rand, and was assured the package should go 
on time. 

Back at the market, breathless Tommy told 


A MEAN MAN 53 

the clerk of his success, then waited with the 
usual patience for his well-earned “ bite.” 

But people were hurrying in with orders, 
the clerk had to do up several packages for 
people to take with them, and, when at last 
there seemed to be a few moments of leisure, 
it appeared that he was forgotten. As the 
man stood leaning against a pillar, Tommy 
went up to him, and asked with quiet drol- 
lery: 

“ Say, Mister Man, haven’t I had any break- 
fast yet? ” 

“Oh, my gracious!” exclaimed the clerk, 
“ now I did come pretty near forgetting young 
Tommy Tatters and his little empty pouch, 
but I’ll go right about getting him something 
to eat. Of course you won’t expect much just 
for that short errand.” 

“ I don’t want any your old food,” said 
Tommy, spunkily, “ if you call me Tommy 
Tatters! I told you my name was Tommy 
Joy. I didn’t call you Mister White-frock. 
I got better manners.” 


54 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

A roll of laughter from the next stall caused 
Tommy to look at a tall, lank man who had 
just appeared from beyond another pillar. 
“ That’s you, bub, give it to him,” he cried. 
“ He’s so mighty fond of calling other folks 
names, it’s high time somebody gave him a 
title of his own. ‘ Mister White-frock,’ that 
will do very well! ” 

“ Oh, come, Welch,” returned the younger 
man, angrily, “ you mind your own business 
and I’ll mind mine. There, there’s your pay,” 
he added, thrusting a sausage from another 
stall into Tommy’s hand. 

The boy looked at his meagre breakfast as 
if half-inclined to throw it back again, but 
its spicy odor reached him. A raw sausage 
was something of a treat, he was getting very 
hungry, and it would do no good to show 
temper, and so come off with nothing at all. 

He turned slowly away. The lank man 
stopped him. 

“ What errand did you do, bub, to get a 
whole sassage for it? ” he asked. 


A MEAN MAN 


55 


“ I carried a big turkey to the ferry.” 

“ And nearly run your legs off, didn’t 
you? ” 

“ I ran pretty hard, but ’twas finding the 
baggage-master, and making him listen to me, 
was the worst, but I got him in time.” 

“ What was you to have for it? ” 

“ Some breakfast.” 

“ And you got all that sassage! Don’t you 
think that was ruther too much?” 

Tommy looked into the long man’s face. 
It was wrinkled and rough, but kind. “ It’ll 
do,” he said; “ I’m hungry.” 

“You hold on,” said the man, who ap- 
peared to keep a variety of market food. 
“Just wriggle inside this stall, I want to 
preach a little sermon. ’Twon’t take long, 
then you can eat your breakfast, your great, 
rich, magnificent breakfast!” 

He bustled about, making up an order, as 
Tommy supposed. “ I have to work pretty 
hard for what I earn myself,” he began, “ but 
when I see a little man that wants to earn a 


56 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

meal of vittles, and does earn it fair and 
square, treated in a mean, small way, it just 
makes me afraid of the harm it may do that 
young boy to be used that way. You may 
be a poor boy, but whether you grow up poor 
or not depends upon yourself, and whether 
you grow up to be a mean man depends on 
yourself, too. But it’s far worse to be mean 
than to be poor. Don’t forget that. Don’t 
do mean things while you’re little, and you 
won’t be likely to when you’re grown up. Oh, 
how the Lord must despise a mean man! 
That’s sermon enough for to-day. Now, 
here’s a nibble for breakfast and dinner, too, 
p’r’aps. Good morning, Mister Tommy Joy, 
and good luck to you! ” 

Tommy was handed a paper bag full of 
something, he did not know what. “ That is 
first-rate,” he said, using the only expression 
he could think of, but his face showed the 
pleasure and gratitude he felt. 

“ Oh, no matter about the thanks,” said Mr. 


A MEAN MAN 


57 


Welch. “ What I’m partic’lar about is, don’t 
ever be a mean man.” 

“ No, sir!” said Tommy, with decision, as 
he bounded away. 


CHAPTER V. 


AN UNEXPECTED SAIL 

Trudging back to Merchant’s Wharf, 
Tommy kfept thinking of Mr. Welch’s little 
sermon. “ He didn’t exactly call that turkey 
feller mean,” mused the boy, “ but he said 
the Lord must despise a mean man, and he 
said it depended on me whether I was rich 
or poor when I grew up. All is, if that’s true, 
I reckon I’ll be rich, thank you! Now I 
wonder what I’ve got here?” 

He looked with liking and longing at the 
well-filled bag in his hand, then he discov- 
ered something. The sausage was missing. 
Had he dropped it? Or did Mr. Welch slyly 
take it as he handed him the package? 

Yes, it slipped into Mr. Welch’s hand as 
he gave Tommy the paper bag. And, as the 
58 


AN UNEXPECTED SAIL 59 

boy left the market, he went to the poultry 
stall and said ? blandly: 

“ Here’s the breakfast you gave that young 
Mr. Joy. He’s gone and left it, the whole 
of it. What shall I do? ” 

“ Throw it away,” growled the clerk. Mr. 
Welch laid the sausage on the marble slab, 
as he said, very kindly: 

“ You know little chaps take lessons from 
their elders. I’d give the little snipe more 
than that the next time.” 

The clerk did not answer, neither did he 
look angry. 

Meantime, Tommy was making his way to 
a convenient corner of the wharf, where he 
knew of a tiny recess between two great piles. 
“ Wonder what I’ve got here,” he asked again, 
with a chuckle of expectation, and, seating 
himself in the sheltered place where he could 
eat without being disturbed. “ What rich- 
ness! ” he exclaimed, on peering into the pa- 
per bag. 

It contained six inches of Bologna sausage, 


60 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

at sight of which Tommy uttered a rapturous 
“Schre-ee!” three russet apples, four small 
white turnips, two plump bananas, and a thick 
slice of pressed beef. 

Tommy picked at the beef as if unable to 
let it alone. Anything in the way of cooked 
meat was a kind of food he very seldom tasted, 
and a third of the very generous slice had 
disappeared almost before he knew it. 

“ Well, in all my fash’n’ble experience, I 
never got hold of the beat of that! ” he mut- 
tered. 

Then, with his rickety jack-knife, he pared 
a turnip, finding it crisp, tender, and a lovely 
relish. 

Of course the kind of breakfast the market 
would furnish all ready for eating would be 
quite different from what would be prepared 
in a mother’s kitchen, but to a growing boy, 
who often was glad to get a half-spoiled 
banana or a couple of oranges squashy on one 
side, and make such things answer for a meal, 
the food in the paper bag was made up of 


AN UNEXPECTED SAIL 


6l 


luxuries, and delighted the eyes and the taste 
of the hungry street boy. 

“ Breakfast and dinner for two days,” 
chirped Tommy, as he proceeded to hide what 
was left until night, when he meant to take it 
with him to the Peggy Lane , concealing it 
somewhere about his bunk. 

After that he ran pretty well up Bond Street 
to watch for heavily laden men or women. 
His first chance at earning something was 
when a fleshy woman came along, bundles in 
her arms, also a heavy child, while another 
child dragged at her skirts. 

“Take your bundles, marm, only ten cents 
to the ferry,” piped Tommy. 

“ Here, carry this young one,” said the 
woman, “ and I’ll give you ten cents.” 

“ It’s pretty far to carry a heavy baby,” 
argued Tommy. “Take your bundles for 
ten cents, baby fifteen cents.” 

“ You’re a terrible sharp one,” said the 
woman, crossly, “ but my arms are broke 


62 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

carrying the bundles and a child. Here, take 
the baby, and I’ll give the fifteen cents.” 

Tommy did not like that kind of a bundle. 
But his practice with the Tucker baby had 
taught him how to manage a small child, so 
he tucked the chubby baby over his shoulder 
and trotted along, glad that no one seemed to 
notice him particularly. It was indeed quite 
a long trudge to the ferry, where the woman 
insisted on his taking the child to the boat’s 
edge. There she paid him. 

Well pleased, back to his post raced the boy, 
and was just in time to serve a man who came 
puffing along, a valise in one hand, a suit-case 
and umbrella in the other. 

A quarter looked like the beginning of bet- 
ter things for Tommy, and so afraid he felt 
lest the money might in some way get away 
from him that he hurried over to Commerce 
Street, where he bought a really spruce, well- 
fitting cap. His luck, as he called it, was ex- 
cellent all day, for at night he had thirty cents 
toward a suit of clothes, besides the posses- 


AN UNEXPECTED SAIL 63 

sion of the cap. Five journeys to the ferry, 
one at fifteen cents, was unusual success. 

Had Tommy known more, he would have 
seen that his own perseverance rather than 
luck was what had brought the welcome 
dimes. 

His second night at school pleased him still 
more than had the first. Sam Sibbel did not 
notice him, Mr. Sudbury taught in a simple, 
straightforward way that any attentive pupil 
could understand, and it was a very hopeful, 
contented boy that, paper bag in hand, 
marched aboard the tugboat Peggy Lane at 
about quarter-past nine. 

The hammock at Mrs. Cullen’s had not 
been uncomfortable, yet the room was always 
stuffy, with so many sleeping in it, and more 
than once Tommy had nearly fallen out of 
the small, swinging bed. But in the firm, 
snug bunk, the yellow cotton sheets felt very 
fine and soft to his spare little body, and heavy 
gray blankets gave lovely warmth. There 
was an abundance of cold air about, but, rolled 


64 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


in the thick blankets, the boy slept so soundly 
that the first thing he heard after falling 
asleep was : 

“Well, well, well, bless my stars! Here 
we’ve been steaming it down-stream for fif- 
teen minutes, and the Joy rabbit just opening 
his eyes! ” 

Tommy giggled, gave one beautiful great 
stretch from fingers to toes, with arms way 
above his head, and sprang out of bed. The 
puffing from the smoke-stack made him look 
about in wonder. 

“ My sakes, we ain’t really going, are we? ” 
he cried. 

“ Looks like it,” said Captain Swart. “ Bet- 
ter come out of this dainty cabin, and peep 
about for yourself.” 

Tommy was outside in a minute. On the 
rude deck he stood bewildered. Picking her 
way swiftly and safely midst other water craft, 
the Peggy Lane , with great sputtering and 
blowing, was scuttling along, a high-floating 
schooner in tow. The men on her more ample 


AN UNEXPECTED SAIL 


6S 


deck seemed amused at watching the some- 
what stately ship clipping along beside the 
nervous, spunky little tug. 

“ Might go below and have a wash,” said 
Captain Swart, as Tommy, wide-eyed and full 
of interest, took in the sparkling scene. 

“ Didn’t know there was any ‘ below,’ ” 
grinned Tommy. 

“ Well, for the sake of style we call it be- 
low, round the other side of the cabin,” the 
captain replied. “ There’s a tin basin and a 
clean towel there. Once in awhile we amuse 
ourselves by washing our faces aboard the 
Peggy, and, as we sometimes make a pretty 
long trip of it down and back, we keep a 
box of crackers somewheres. Been known to 
make a pot of very passable coffee on board, 
but didn’t this morning.” 

“ Oh, I’ve got some breakfast,” said 
Tommy, beaming on the busy man, for all 
the time Captain Swart kept giving orders 
and keeping a sharp outlook that all went welL 
At Tommy’s remark, he sung out: 


66 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Brought the kitchen along, hey? That’s 
lucky; broiled chicken, fried eggs, and 
such? ” 

Tommy chuckled. “ No, but some first- 
rate Blo’ny sausage I earned doing an errant,” 
he added, proudly, “ and an apple and a dandy 
little turnip.” 

“ My stars! ” exclaimed the captain, “ now 
I call that living high! Come now,” he 
added, “ I had breakfast pretty early, and 
your bill of fare makes me hungry. P’r’aps 
we’ll strike up a bargain ; you give me a piece 
of your Bologna, and I’ll bring out some ship 
crackers and have a cup of coffee made. 
There won’t be any cream in the coffee, nor 
I sha’n’t give it overstrong to a man of your 
years, but it’ll be nice and sweet, hot and tasty. 
Is it a bargain? ” 

“ You could have the sausage without giv- 
ing anything for it,” said Tommy, not want- 
ing to be “ mean,” “ and it’s awful nice hav- 
ing that bunk without paying for it.” 

“ That’s fixed all right,” replied the captain. 


AN UNEXPECTED SAIL 


67 


“ Peter Frankfort got that berth for you, and 
very glad I was to have the time come when 
I could do something to accommodate him. 
He gave me a lift once when I wanted a mate’s 
place aboard a fine sailing-vessel. I got the 
job, and had a chance at sharing some of the 
profits of the cargo. 

“Now I more than half own the Peggy 
Lane , and an extry good boat she is, too. You 
don’t find such a wide cabin and good places 
to sleep on many tugs. But hop over, wash 
up, then fetch on your rich sausage, and we’ll 
soon have the coffee boiling. Hope your lord- 
ship won’t scorn drinking out of a mug, — 
a pewter one, at that.” 

Tommy always grinned broadly when he 
was pleased but didn’t know just what to say, 
so it was a sunny-faced boy that found his 
way to a side of the cabin, where, assisted by 
a grimy “ hand,” or deck-hand, he discovered 
the basin and towel, and enjoyed a nice little 
wash. Then he found what remained of the 


68 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


sausage, and on a narrow bench waited for 
the coffee to be ready. 

It did not seem long before Captain Swart, 
seated on a rough three-legged stool, the cof- 
fee-pot on an end of the bench, served sea 
biscuit, or “ pilot-bread,” and a fine, steam- 
ing drink to the hungry boy. 

Tommy did not soon forget that breakfast. 
It lingered in his mind, a very unexpected and 
happy event; the tug cutting through the 
water like a living thing, the waves foaming 
and shimmering close to the low deck, a big 
mug of satisfying drink, the sweet biscuit it 
was a new pleasure to crunch, and the highly 
seasoned sausage to lend its appetizing flavor. 
What enjoyment! 

True, he was earning no money; the longed- 
for suit of clothes would be a little longer in 
coming, yet, boy as he was, Tommy had the 
feeling in his heart that money did not buy 
all the good things in the world, and that when 
a real pleasure was put in one’s way, the best 
thing to do was to enjoy it to the full. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A LUCKY ACCIDENT 

Every time that Tommy went to school, 
he grew more anxious to get the clothes it 
was taking so long to earn. He had asked 
Captain Swart if there was not something he 
could do on the tug to bring in a few pennies, 
but the captain said no. 

“ Just takes a few hands that understand the 
business,” he explained, “ and no more.” 

But he showed Tommy how to make his 
bed neat, or “ spread his bunk,” as he called 
it, also how to keep the small space surround- 
ing it perfectly tidy. But poor Tommy had 
seen that he was the most shabbily dressed of 
all Mr. Sudbury’s pupils, and it nearly dis- 
couraged him. 

Yet, he was finding out some things about 

69 


70 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

himself he had not known before. One ex- 
cellent thing, far better than Tommy realized, 
was that, after he had made up his mind to 
do anything, he could not easily give it up. 
This is a splendid trait for any young person 
to possess, if only what they want to do is 
something worth while. 

Mr. Frankfort would gladly have helped 
the boy further but for two reasons. First, 
he was a poor man himself, and then he did 
not know how badly Tommy was feeling about 
his clothes. 

To his credit be it told, however, Tommy 
had been so active and persevering that, at the 
end of nearly two weeks of school-going, he 
had “ two whole dollars ” he proudly assured 
himself toward the coveted suit. Then some- 
thing happened that appeared like a great 
misfortune, but sometimes an accident that at 
first looks like a great disaster turns out to 
have been a very fortunate thing, after all. 

One morning the boy stationed himself at 
the head of the slip at the ferry-house, hoping 



“ COVERING POOR TOMMY WITH A STICKY OIL THAT SMELT 

ABOMINABLY ” 






A LUCKY ACCIDENT 


71 


for a f chance to help some one with luggage. 
Business had been so slack on Bond Street 
for a day or two past, he thought he would 
try a new stand. 

Most of you know what a crowd there is 
on the in-coming ferry-boat in the morning, 
especially when connected with a railroad 
train, and even the street boy, used as he is 
to a jam of people, must dart spryly about to 
avoid getting in the way. 

Tommy was wisely keeping to the outside 
of the walk, when a truck, heavily loaded 
with great jars, gave a violent jounce close by 
the boy, and down slipped a jar from under 
the cording, struck the edge of the truck, go- 
ing into a. dozen pieces, and covering poor 
Tommy with a sticky oil that smelt abomi- 
nably. 

The boy looked down and saw himself out- 
wardly a total wreck, while some of the peo- 
ple were thoughtless enough to break into 
loud laughter. But there was one person who 
did not laugh ; that was a trim-looking young 


72 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

fellow, sharp, alert, who thought pityingly 
what a shame it was that the ragged child 
should be smirched with that ill-smelling oil. 

Tommy’s first thought was of the night- 
school, and, as he started off, wanting to get 
out of sight of the laughing crowd, he did not 
notice that he was keeping near the great truck 
from which the oil had fallen. Tears were 
in the eyes of the forlorn boy, and it might 
have been that he did not see clearly as usual, 
for, as he attempted to cross the street, a man 
sitting beside the driver of the truck sung out: 

“Clear out there, ragamuffin! What you 
trying to do? Isn’t the dose of oil you’ve had 
enough, but you must try to get run over? ” 

Now it chanced that the wide-awake young 
fellow, who had not laughed with the crowd, 
had also kept pace with the big team, and, 
as the boy stepped back, he saw him brush the 
tears from his eyes. 

“ See here,” he called sharply to the man 
who had yelled at Tommy, “ aren’t you 
ashamed to speak to a boy in that way after 


A LUCKY ACCIDENT 


73 


ruining every stitch the child has on! Why 
wasn’t your rank old oil-jug fastened securely, 
instead of being left to roll off in that fash- 
ion? 

“ Come on, lad,” he called hastily to 
Tommy, as he kept up with the truck. Then 
he shouted up at the man again: 

“ If you’d spoiled the clothes of any man 
coming off the boat as you did this boy’s, you’d 
have paid for it, you know that as well as I 
do, and, by jingo! you shall pay for this 
urchin’s clothes, too. I’ll call at the place 
where this truck hails from; there’s the name 
plain enough on the side, and I’ll make it 
my next business to see that the poor little 
fellow recovers damages.” 

The man beside the driver ordered him to 
stop. 

“You needn’t mind making a fuss about 
nothing,” he said, testily. “ Of course I didn’t 
mean to spoil the youngster’s clothes, and they 
were spoiled a-ready. But I’m willing to do 
what’s fair.” 


74 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ That’s lucky,” said the young man, laugh- 
ingly, “ seeing you’ll have to once I tell my 
little story. I saw the whole thing. Whoever 
packed that wagon is responsible for this small 
chap’s appearance. The fact of his being 
poorly clothed to begin with has nothing to 
do with it, unless to make the accident all the 
worse.” 

Tommy and his new friend were standing 
beside the heavy truck, but the fearless man- 
ner and determined speech of the young fel- 
low were not at all to the liking of the man 
to whom he spoke. 

“ What do you suppose the boy’s clothes are 
worth? ” asked the man. 

“ Don’t know,” was the reply. “ We can 
talk that over at headquarters.” 

He meant that he was going to see the men 
who owned the truck and sent out the oil, 
the men who hired the man sitting beside the 
driver. Both men had been obliged to raise 
their voices to a shout in order to be heard 
in the noisy street. But, as the young man 


A LUCKY ACCIDENT 


75 


was about to move on, the one on the truck 
jumped to the pavement. 

“ Hold on!” he began. “I confess that 
jar shouldn’t have bounced off as it did, but 
we loaded in a tremendous hurry this morn- 
ing. I’m sorry for every moment I lose over 
this affair. But I’ve got a wife and two chil- 
dren, and I’m not a bad sort, after all, if I 
did sing out pretty rough to this boy. And 
I don’t want any complaints made at the store. 
The boss there is a hot-headed, quick-spoken 
man, and he might make it mighty unpleasant 
for me and my family. I’d rather pay a fair 
rate for the mischief done. What do you think 
would cover it? ” 

The man’s face wore a look of anxiety as 
he drew a leathern purse from a deep pocket. 

“ I don’t want to be harsh or unfair,” said 
the young man, in a frank, friendlier tone, 
“ but just take a look at that boy!” Then 
turning toward Tommy, he asked : 

“ Have you better clothes at home, Mister 
Boy? ” 


76 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ No, these are all I got,” answered Tommy, 
“ and I can’t go to night-school in them this 
way. I been saving money I earned doing 
errants to get me a suit, and I’ve got two 
dollars toward it.” 

“ Suppose I give you two more,” asked the 
man, “ think you could get a decent rig for 
it all?” 

“ Oh, yes, four dollars would fix me out 
fine! ” And Tommy grinned at the fair pros- 
pect. 

“ All right, here’s your two. Now I hope 
you think I’ve done the fair thing all round,” 
the man added. 

“ You are getting off easy,” said the young 
man. “ I have no wish to make a fuss, but 
it was not ‘ about nothing,’ as you said a mo- 
ment ago. I recommend that the next time 
you pack such smelling stuff as that, you see 
that it is stuck on too tight to roll off, and 
— good morning to you.” 

The man jumped to his seat beside the 


A LUCKY ACCIDENT 


77 


driver, and the truck clattered off. The 
young man looked Tommy over. 

“ That was first-rate,” said the boy, while 
his face showed the gratitude and pleasure 
he expressed so crudely. 

It generally follows that if we befriend any 
one, or show any one a kindness, we feel an 
interest in the person right away, especially 
if it be a stranger. The trim young man who 
had seen Tommy righted did not care par- 
ticularly for the street boy when he saw the 
accident, but his love of justice and decent 
treatment for everybody would not admit of 
his hearing the poor boy “ hollered ” at and 
roughly ordered about, after what had hap- 
pened through the man’s carelessness, without 
taking his part. 

Now, as he looked at Tommy more closely, 
he noticed what clear, dark eyes he had, what 
good features, and how agile was the form 
so miserably clad. 

“ So you go to night-school, Mister Boy. 
Why not to day-school?” 


78 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Have to do errants and earn money day- 
times.” 

“ And doesn’t the father earn money to help 
along? ” 

“ Pappy lit off when I was only two,” 
Tommy replied, in the language of the street, 
“ and mammy went when I reckon I was about 
five. I tended a baby and helped in house- 
work till I got old enough to do errants. 
Since then I’ve took care of myself. A man 
that got me a bunk to sleep in nights on a tug- 
boat wanted me to go to night-school, so I 
go. I like it. I like my teacher, too.” 

“ That speaks well for you, Mister Boy. 
Keep right on with school. You’ll need all 
you can learn a little further on. I’m going 
to say good-by now, but first, here’s another 
dollar for you to invest in shoes. Give four 
dollars for your suit; anything cheaper will 
not serve you as well. Farewell, Mister Boy, 
study hard and sleep sweet!” 

Tommy wished the breezy young man had 
stopped while he said how “ first-rate ” he 


A LUCKY ACCIDENT 


79 


thought he had been. But he had whisked 
away immediately after laying a great shining 
silver dollar on the boy’s arm. Tommy looked 
at it doubtfully, and it showed that he had the 
right kind of feeling about some things as he 
muttered : 

“ Wisht I’d earned it! ’Twas all right mak- 
ing that oil feller pay me something, but a 
whole great dollar without doing anything for 
it, — wisht I’d earned it.” 

Yet the next instant Tommy gave a jubilant 
leap into the air. Why, it was almost too‘ good 
to be true. He, Tommy Joy, had five whole 
dollars of his own ! He could go to school that 
very evening in a brand-new outfit, shoes and 
all. “ I’ll be the dandy of the whole school- 
room!” he chuckled. Off he raced, hoping 
to get back to the towboat before it left the 
wharf. His precious two dollars, all in ten 
or five cent pieces, were tucked in a corner 
of his bunk under the clothes. 

Steam was puffing from the funnel of the 
Peggy Lane as the panting boy reached the 


80 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

wharf, but he rushed on deck, and, seeing 
Captain Swart, he said, breathlessly, that he 
wanted to get something out of his bunk. 

“ Well, you’ve no need to kill yourself hur- 
rying,” the captain replied. “ We don’t start 
for ten or fifteen minutes yet. Creation!” 
he added, “ what’s got your rigging? ” 

“ I had some oil spilt over me,” Tommy an- 
swered, “ but I’m goin’ to get some better 
clothes. I’ve got the money.” 

“Where are you going for them?” asked 
the captain. 

Tommy grinned. “ I’d go to some of the 
big stores up-town if I didn’t look so like the 
leavings of a busted oil fact’ry,” he said. “ I 
reckon they have some cheap suits.” 

“ I’ll tell you where to go,” said Captain 
Swart. “ Do you mind that great clothing 
house on Commerce Street, way up by 
Spruce? ” 

“Yes, know just where ’tis.” 

“ All right, you march right up there, and 
ask to see Mr. Smart. Tell him Captain 


A LUCKY ACCIDENT 


8 1! 


Swart of Merchant’s Wharf sent you, then tell 
him just what you can give for a suit of good 
woollen clothes. He’ll fix you all right; he’s 
honest.” 

“ That’s first-rate,” said Tommy, and off he 
started. 


CHAPTER VII. 

GETTING DRESSED 

AT the great clothing house, a clerk treated 
the sticky-looking boy both kindly and po- 
litely, showed him where to find Mr. Smart, 
and directed him to a seat, for Mr. Smart 
was having a sober talk with a gentleman, 
and said to Tommy: 

“ I will attend to you in a moment, young 
man.” 

On a form close by lay a fine-looking suit 
of clothes, with a beautiful crease down the 
front of the little trousers, a regular vest, and 
a lovely round jacket with pockets and stitch- 
ings galore, all so perfect looking that Tommy 
thought how grand it must be to own such a 
suit as that. 


82 


GETTING DRESSED 83 

After a time, the gentleman turned away, 
and Tommy heard Mr. Smart say: 

“ Of course we’ll make it all right, sir.” 
Then he turned to the waiting boy. 

“ Well now, colonel, what can I do for 
you?” 

Tommy’s cheeks showed decided dimples, 
as he answered bravely and to the point: 

“ I got oil spilt all over my clothes. They 
warn’t good before, but now they’re horrid. 
I’ve been saving up to buy a suit. I can pay 
four dollars for it. Captain Swart of Mer- 
chant’s Wharf told me to come here and ask 
for you. He said you’d treat me honest.” 

“ Ah, you’ve told the story in a nutshell, as 
we say,” Mr. Smart replied, his pleasant eyes 
twinkling. “ That is, you’ve made everything 
clear without wasting any words. Always do 
that, my boy; tell your story right off, no 
shilly-shallying, and you’ll get along all the 
better. Now come this way, please.” 

He started off in another direction, but all 
at once stopped, looked around thoughtfully, 


84 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

then went back to the form where lay the 
clothes that Tommy had admired. 

“ It looks to me,” he began, slowly, “ as if 
a lucky star might have sent you here this 
morning. Here is a suit, cost eight dollars, 
made for a chap some older than you, with 
long trousers, but you won’t mind that. I see 
you have on long breeches now; saves more 
expensive stockings. By some strange acci- 
dent, the lining in all three of these pieces is 
discolored. There! you see the inside twill 
has a damaged look, but the cloth is all wool, 
neither heavy nor very light, and is of a little 
mixed pattern that won’t show spots. 

“ Seeing it’s you, if the things fit, you may 
have them for four dollars, exactly half price. 
They’ll last till you outgrow them, and the 
linings won’t show. Think they’ll suit, gen- 
eral?” 

“ Too good! ” gasped Tommy, his eyes like 
moons. 

“Never think anything too' good if it is 
appropriate,” said Mr. Smart. “ Consider 


GETTING DRESSED 


85 


yourself far better than your clothes. These 
are sensible, sober garments, just what you 
need. Now then, I’ll put you in a cubby 
where you can try the suit on. I think,” he 
added, “ I had better help get them on the 
first time, then you will know just how to man- 
age after that.” 

“ The rest of my clothes isn’t bloomin’ 
roses,” said Tommy, with a confused little 
grin. 

“Oh, no matter about that,” Mr. Smart 
said, breezily, as he led Tommy away. 

But when he saw that a slouchy gray calico 
lining taken from some old sack was Tom- 
my’s only underwear, the man’s kind heart 
was touched. 

“Bless my soul!” he said, briskly, “I’ve 
just remembered about a couple of undervests 
and tights to match that got so mussed up with 
handling we didn’t know what to do with 
them. I’ll throw them in, and be glad to. 
Four dollars is considerable to pay for a suit, 
come to think it over.” 


86 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


When the new, clean, well-fitting garments 
were all on, Tommy was placed before a long 
mirror for self-inspection. His grin was 
sublime. “ Folks’ll think I’m the gov’nor,” 
he piped. 

“ No reason why you shouldn’t be governor, 
or even President, one of these days, if you 
only fit yourself to be,” Mr. Smart replied, his 
cheery, kindly manner doing poor Tommy a 
world of good. For, with all his wide smile, 
there had been a tremble in his voice, as if 
he felt half-inclined to cry. Possibly some 
sensitive chord was touched when he saw him- 
self, for the first time in his life, a well-dressed 
boy, — dressed as perhaps he all at once felt 
he ought to have been years agone. 

“ I’ve got a dollar left to buy some shoes,” 
confided Tommy, then brightening gleefully, 
he added: “When I get those on, I’ll be fit 
to train with the mil’tary.” 

“All right; I’ll look for you on parade- 
day,” called Mr. Smart, “ and drop in again, 
comrade, when you need a new overcoat.” 


GETTING DRESSED 


87 


He held up his hand edgewise against the 
side of his face, in a military salute, and bowed 
himself out of sight. 

Tommy trotted away in the direction of a 
shoe store he knew of, the silver dollar in one 
of his new pockets. He felt as happy as a king. 
Mr. Smart had made a neat bundle of his old 
clothes, saying they might come in use for 
something or other. But Tommy wanted to 
be rid of them. He could not help casting 
satisfied looks at his nice clothes as he hur- 
ried along. 

“ I believe I’ll run back to the wharf,” he 
muttered, “ and do something with these old 
things before I get my shoes.” And back he 
got just in time to see Mr. Frankfort lumber- 
ing along near the top of the wharf. At sight 
of Tommy, he stopped short and sung out: 

“ Look lively there, mate! Where gott’s ye 
that surprising show of dry goods?” 

“ Oh, Mr. Frankfort,” cried Tommy, “do 
stop and let me tell you what happened!” 
But the answer was called back: 


88 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


“ It’s just an hour to lunch-time, Mister 
Joy, and then I’ll sit down with you, and hand 
over a plump doughnut besides, but duty and 
business first, my boy.” 

So Tommy good-naturedly hid the bundle 
between the piles, thinking he might throw 
it overboard at night, then, as there would be 
plenty of time to get his new shoes within the 
hour, off he started for Commerce Street 
again. 

He was greatly disappointed at finding that 
the lowest price for shoes that would fit him 
at the large store where he went was a dollar 
and twenty-five cents. But the “ shoe-man,” 
seeing his downcast air, and finding the lad 
had but a dollar, found a pair he said he could 
have. And a very good pair of shoes they 
were that Tommy got in exchange for his big 
silver dollar. 

Then off he sped for the wharf. All he 
owned in the world was the suit of clothes 
on his back, the cap on his head, and the shoes 
on his feet. He wore no socks, and did not 


GETTING DRESSED 


89 


think he needed any. Neither did he own a 
handkerchief, but he knew of no need for that, 
either. His heart was light as a feather. He 
was to have a doughnut for lunch, and a snug 
little bunk was waiting for him at night. 

“ Think I’m gettin’ to be a real swell kind,” 
chuckled Tommy. 

At noon Mr. Frankfort paid silent atten- 
tion while Tommy told all about the spilling 
of the oil, the young man who had seen justice 
done, the splendid bargain at Mr. Smart's, 
and his new shoes. “ And Mr. Smart,” 
Tommy added, “ he said there wasn’t any 
reason why I couldn’t be gov’nor or President 
some day if I got fit.” 

When Mr. Frankfort spoke it was soberly 
and thoughtfully: 

“ Now is the time, Tommy boy, for you to 
make up your mind what class of mankind 
you like best, and which you’d ruther belong 
to. There’s the mean, selfish kind and the 
friendly, helpful kind.” 

“ I’m goin’ to be friendly and try to help,” 


90 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Tommy hurried to say. “ There was a mean 
man at market, one day, I don’t want to be 
like. And that oil feller would ’a’ been awful 
mean if he could. But Mr. Welch was kind, 
and Mr. Sudbury helps me just beautiful. 
Mr. Smart was kind, Captain Swart is real 
good; oh, but that dandy young man that 
made the oil feller pay up was great! He was 
dressed amazin’,” almost whispered Tommy. 
“ Had on shiny cuffs, shiny shoes, and a gold 
ring, but he wasn’t a dude-thing. Oh, I hate 
a dude-thing!” 

“ Well, now, just what did you think of 
him?” asked Mr. Frankfort, and he spoke 
so earnestly that Tommy replied with off- 
hand candor: 

“ Oh, he’d always had them, all those nice 
clothes, I mean. He had a rich daddy and a 
bang-up home, and — and he’d had schoolin’ 
right from the start. I see it in the way he 
walked and the way he talked, and the way 
he kept from getting mad, and yet made that 
oil fellow mind him. I reckon he was born 


GETTING DRESSED 


9 1 


rich; yes, that’s it, I think he was born 
rich.” 

Tommy was quiet for a moment after that, 
but, as he tucked the last sweet morsel of the 
plump doughnut into his mouth, he looked 
up and said with eagerness: 

“And Mr. Frankfort, you’re an awful 
good, nice man, too. You’re — you re first- 
rate!” 

That was the climax. Tommy knew noth- 
ing more expressive of approval to say of any- 
thing or any one than that. 

Mr. Frankfort still spoke soberly: “ I’m 
right glad to hear you say that, Tommy Joy, 
but there’s some things you know and feel 
just as plain as I do. I didn’t have much of 
any schoolin’ when a lad, and it’s hampered 
me. I mean it’s kept me in a narrow place 
all my life, hindered me from climbing up 
in the way I’d ’a’ liked to. I’d ruther be 
something better than assistant dock-master, 
although it means good, honest labor. No 
reason why you shouldn’t wear good clothes 


92 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

when you get older, though, far as I can see. 
Those things don’t make a man, but they 
count! ” 

“ ’Cordin’ to the feller as wears them,” 
sagely observed Tommy, “ and o’ course you 
mean there must be learnin’ to match.” 

“ That’s as true as you’re born, little Mister 

Joy!” 

Both were silent and sat gazing across the 
water, until Tommy made a movement and 
looked down at his little brown paws. 

“Yes, sir!” he said, with emphasis, “one 
of these days I’m goin’ to wear a gold ring 
and a watch and clothes that fit amazin’, but 
I ain’t goin’ to be a dude-thing; I’m goin’ 
to be a man!” 

Mr. Frankfort gave the boy a sounding 
slap on the back. “ God bless you, man- 
child! ” he said. 

And Tommy wondered what made his 
voice sound so thick and funny. 

“ Sorter husky, like a cold,” the boy told 
himself. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A STORMY MORNING 

Breakfast was ready in one of the finest 
mansions on Beacon Road. The table was 
spread with plenty of silver, cut glass, and 
the daintiest of linen. A gentleman, lady, 
and their young son were about to sit down. 
A man servant in white jacket and neat black 
clothes stood ready to wait upon them. 

“Master Tommy,” said the waiter, “will 
you have oatmeal and cream first, or will you 
have beefsteak and omelet right away? ” 

Ah, this was Tommy Joyce, come to look at 
him, but was it not rather strange that he 
should be the first one asked what he would 
have, and his parents present? 

Well, perhaps there were reasons why his 
93 


94 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

parents were very willing to have him served 
first of all. 

Tommy, however, replied, in a lordly tone: 
11 I don’t want any oatmeal stuff, nor beef- 
steak nor omelet. I just want cakes and maple 
syrup. I won’t eat anything else.” 

“ Don’t speak in that way,” said Mr. Joyce. 
“ Be a young gentleman, and speak properly.” 

Mrs. Joyce said nothing, and Tommy ap- 
peared to take no notice of his father’s words. 
Robert meantime had gone to the kitchen for 
cakes, and Mrs. Joyce began pouring coffee 
from the silver urn. 

Back came Robert. “ There’s no cakes this 
morning, Master Tommy. Cook says will 
you have some shredded wheat?” 

“No,” screamed the boy. “ I want cakes. 
Tell her to get cakes made quick. I won’t 
eat anything else! ” 

“If you speak in that way, you won’t have 
anything,” Mr. Joyce said again. 

“ Don’t get him nervous,” Mrs. Joyce said, 


A STORMY MORNING 95 

in an undertone, and she looked troubled and 
anxious. 

Robert returned from the kitchen again. 
“ Cook says as there’s no buckwheat riz and 
no sour milk, and she can’t make cakes this 
morning.” 

Back went Tommy’s head against the chair, 
his face puckered ridiculously, sure signs of 
a coming screaming spell. 

“ Oh, come, Tommy dear,” coaxed his 
mother, “ be our good boy, and have one of 
these beautiful muffins and a nice, rich cup 
of coffee. Father doesn’t like to hear you cry, 
so sit up like a man and have some coffee. 
You know how you like it.” 

For answer Tommy broke into a loud cry, 
at the same time kicking his heels against the 
rung of his chair. 

“ You stop that right away,” said his father, 
sternly; “ if you don’t, Fll make you.” 

Tommy opened his eyes and stared at his 
father in blank surprise. 

“ I mean it, Tommy. I’ve stood this non- 


96 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

sense of your bawling like a great baby every 
time anything displeases you, till now I mean 
to break it up. Sit up and behave yourself 
properly, or else get up and leave the table.” 

Tommy glanced at his mother and caught 
the look of concern in her eyes. Oh, no, his 
father would never dare begin trying to make 
him mind. He was just pretending. 

Then he roared in earnest, and kept scream- 
ing out: “ I want some cakes! I want some 
cakes! ” 

Up got Mr. Joyce and laid down his nap- 
kin. “ Open the door, Robert,” he com- 
manded. 

Robert obeyed with alacrity. Mr. Joyce 
took the screaming boy in his arms, and car- 
ried him over the stairs, Tommy still scream- 
ing, struggling, and kicking. Mrs. Joyce 
started after him, and kept repeating, in half- 
scared tones: “What are you going to do? 
What are you going to do?” 

Robert went to the kitchen, bent double 
with laughter, and holding on to his sides. 



»» 


“ MR. JOYCE TOOK THE SCREAMING BOY 




































































A STORMY MORNING 


97 


“Oh, cracky!” he gasped, “I do b’lieve 
master’s goin’ to give that young whelp a good 
lickin’, and she a-pesterin’ of him to know, 
‘What you goin’ to do! What you goin’ to 
do! ’ The great dickens, but I wish he’d lay 
it on well! This house ain’t anythin’ but a 
bedlam place with that young limb a-kicking 
up Caesar the whole blessed time.” 

“ Boy isn’t to blame,” said Jameson, the 
coachman. “ Most any youngling would be 
willin’ to rule all hands an he thought he 
could. ’Tis master and meestress have got 
his behavin’ to answer for. An’ I’m thinkin’ 
master is settin’ out for the upper hand. I’m 
wishin’ he might get it and keep it, but he’s 
begun o’er late, o’er late!” 

“ Didn’t he sass me yes’day ’bout the last 
cakes I was makin’,” began the cook, her face 
red and angry at the recollection. “ I jus’ 
says to meself, says I, ‘ You wait, Master Sass- 
box, and let’s see the cakes you’ll be gettin’ 
to-morrer mornin’! ’ I wouldn’t ’a’ made the 
baggage a cake not if Mis’ Joyce had ’a’ come 


98 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

and dismissed me on die spot. Indeed and 
I wouldn’t! ” 

“ Ain’t altogether a bad boy, either,” again 
put in the loyal Jameson. “Only wants the 
trainin’ the good Lorrd means ev’ry born 
bairn that cooms into a hoose shall have. I’m 
thinkin’ it’s a pity a fine man like master 
should make one great mistake, a verra great 
mistake it is ! ” 

“ P’r’aps he’s turnin’ over a new leaf, and 
high time, too,” remarked Robert. “ Listen 
to that, will you! ” And the waiter rolled his 
eyes as if in dismay at a series of muffled 
screams and howls that came from somewhere 
up-stairs. 

“Well, I guess he’s a-ketchin’ of it now!” 
said cook. 

Yet not a hand had been laid upon Tommy 
Joyce, except that his father had put him into 
a closet in the upper hall, locked the door, 
and left him to scream to his heart’s content. 
There was a window high up in the closet, 
so Tommy was not in the dark, but Mr. Joyce 


A STORMY MORNING 


99 


had slipped the key into his pocket, as he was 
determined that once at least he would con- 
quer the wilful boy. 

In his room he found his wife rocking ex- 
citedly to and fro in a low, easy chair. 

“ How long are you going to keep poor 
little Tommy locked up in that stifling 
place?” she asked, shortly. 

“Now, wife, do let’s have a little sensible 
talk about our boy,” Mr. Joyce replied. 
“ That closet is not stifling at all, and it won’t 
harm Tommy if he stays there all the morn- 
ing. I am beginning to feel it is a sin and a 
shame to allow any child to go on as Tommy 
does. And I am getting so that I actually 
dread sitting down to the table with my own 
young son or even to see him enter a room. 
He already is a tyrant with the servants, all 
except Jameson. He does seem to have some 
respect for him, and I verily believe because 
he can’t bully or annoy the coachman. These 
are extremely unpleasant things to say, but 
the truth has got to be faced. What kind of 


L.ofC. 


IOO TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

a man will a boy like Tommy make unless he 
is made to behave himself and show proper 
respect to others?” 

“ I always expected that a son of mine 
would make a respectable man,” was the dis- 
pleased answer, “ but, if it becomes necessary 
to punish him, I think it should be done in 
some dignified way.” 

Mr. Joyce kept patient, but answered, man- 
fully: 

“ I’ve felt condemned for some time past 
at the way I’ve sinned against Tommy, for 
it is a real crime to allow a mere child to lord 
it over every one, and set up a regular scream 
whenever he is even slightly crossed.” 

He hesitated, then added: “I haven’t 
spoken of it, for fear of distressing you, but 
Mr. Kemp, his schoolmaster, has complained 
twice that he is unable to govern the boy, and 
that he makes a great deal of trouble in the 
schoolroom. Now, I am going to insist on 
better behavior. I don’t mean to be harsh, 
but I shall have to be stern, and I do not mean 


A STORMY MORNING 


IOI 


to give up until we have a better behaved 
boy. I know very well that children must 
be governed, or else they will grow up head- 
strong and lawless, to be disciplined by a 
harsh, severe world later on.” 

At that point the screaming and violent 
kicking against the door of the closet had 
increased to such an extent that Mr. Joyce 
could not be heard without almost shouting. 
He went to a drawer of his bureau and took 
out two large, stout handkerchiefs. Unlock- 
ing the closet door, he tied Master Tommy’s 
feet and then his arms firmly together. The 
knowing boy called distressfully: “ Mamma! 
mamma! ” but Mrs. Joyce, knowing how use- 
less it would be, did not reply. 

“ I’ll run away! I’ll run away! ” screeched 
Tommy, hoping to scare his parents with the 
threat, but the next moment he found himself 
alone again, the door locked, his arms pin- 
ioned, and his feet securely tied. 

“ Hadn’t we better go down to breakfast? ” 
Mr. Joyce asked his wife. 


102 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“Breakfast!” she repeated, in a heart-sick 
way. “ I feel very much like breakfast, and 
poor Tommy on the floor of a closet, with his 
feet tied up! And all about a few miserable 
cakes. He is a proud, sensitive child, and, 
as I said before, if he is to be reproved, it 
should be done in a gentle, gradual way. Mr. 
Kemp probably doesn’t understand his nature 
at all.” 

“ Well, I am going down to breakfast 
now,” Mr. Joyce replied, “ and you, of course, 
must do as you think best, but after this I 
intend to do my duty as I see it by our boy. 
And this morning’s storm is not over ‘ a few 
miserable cakes; ’ it has been brewing a long 
time. Nor do I feel that the schoolroom 
trouble is because the master does not under- 
stand the boy. To-day’s outbreak means a 
great deal of future trouble if Tommy is not 
trained, and Mr. Kemp’s complaints are only 
the beginning of similar ones unless I strive 
to prevent them. Now I shall not go to busi- 
ness this morning until Tommy is quiet, if 


A STORMY MORNING 


103 


I have to remain away from the office for 
hours.” 

All this shows why Tommy Joyce was a 
troublesome, turbulent boy, and at the age 
of eleven had become a terror in both the 
home and the schoolroom. Too much petting 
and indulgence had brought about a state of 
things it was going to be very, very hard to 
change. 

His father conquered this time, for Tommy 
screamed until he was exhausted and fell 
asleep. Once he tried banging his head 
against the door, but that hurt, so he soon 
gave it up. 

This day’s storm, however, was only the 
beginning of troubles. Mr. Joyce, it is true, 
insisted on obedience, but Tommy yielded 
only sullenly and because he had to. It was 
a thousand pities that his mother was so 
blinded to his faults as to think him too 
harshly dealt with, and would even soothe and 
treat him when sent to bed early for miscon- 


104 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

duct. And she felt unhappy and grieved 
when, at the close of this stormy day, stormy 
inside only, Tommy said, crossly: 

“ I think this is a perfectly horrid old 
world! ” 


CHAPTER IX. 


GETTING ON 

WHEN Tommy Joy made his appearance 
at night-school in the spruce new suit and 
well-fitting boots he had purchased, Mr. Sud- 
bury looked at him with fresh interest. 

How attractive the lad was! And how his 
dark eyes lighted up when the lessons were 
fairly under way! And there was not a more 
attentive pupil in the room; this the master 
knew well. 

After the other scholars had gone that 
night, Tommy lingered, and in a half-shy 
way asked Mr. Sudbury if he would explain 
a sum in arithmetic he could not understand. 

“ Certainly, my boy,” was the prompt re- 
ply. “ I am always glad to explain anything 


106 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

that is too much of a puzzle,” and, glancing 
at Tommy, he said, inquiringly: “ You have 
good friends, I hope?” 

“ Folks are kind,” said Tommy, “ they’re 
awful kind.” 

“ There are no parents, I think your friend 
told me.” 

“No, they’ve been gone ever since I was 
a little kid, but I’m pretty well off, ’cause 
Captain Swart, he lets me sleep aboard his 
tugboat nights, and daytimes I do errants to 
earn money. And I’ve got Mr. Frankfort, 
the man that come here with me the first night. 
He is good, mighty good.” 

The master was amused. The slim child 
seemed so much “ a little kid ” yet that the 
expression almost forced a smile. And then 
the idea of “ being pretty well off,” because 
he had a place to sleep and could do errands 
through the day for self-support, was touch- 
ing. 

“ And do you earn much doing errands? ” 

“ Some days I do first-rate, and then some 


GETTING ON 


107 


days there don’t seem to be any one wants an 
errant done.” 

Mr. Sudbury’s next question was in a slow, 
low tone: 

“ Do you ever get hungry? ” 

“ No, not real,” piped Tommy, cheerily. 
“ I gen’rally keep a little ahead, and the 
market men, they’re good mostly. If I don’t 
lay down but a cent, they know why, and I 
get a big banana with one side squashed a 
bit, perhaps two of them. But pretty often 
I can go to the baker’s, and sometimes I have 
a gay little pie. I like pie.” 

Mr. Sudbury had grown sober while 
Tommy was speaking, but suddenly he bright- 
ened, as an idea occurred to him. 

“ Should you know how to get to the col- 
lege grounds across the water? ” he asked. 

“ Ho, yes,” answered the street boy. “ Take 
a blue car, and lands you right at the gates 
for only five cents,” and Tommy looked ex- 
perienced as a judge. 

“ All right, some of the men there would 


108 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

be glad to have you come over Saturday 
afternoons. We have games and tramps, and 
often wish we had a boy around to help in 
various ways. You’d be pretty spry, I take 
it, in running on our errands, or perhaps car- 
rying rigging when we have a mind to go on 
the river.” 

Tommy’s face took on a morning-like glow. 

“ I’d like it! ” And his grin said as much 
as his words. 

“ Very well, come over to-morrow after- 
noon. No school at night, as it will be Satur- 
day, and you won’t have to hurry back. Start 
early, say at one o’clock, find your way to Fen- 
ton Hall, and ask for Mr. Sudbury.” 

“Are you in college?” asked Tommy, his 
eyes stretched wide in surprise. 

“ Yes, I am still a student. This is next 
to my last year, but I have to help myself, 
Tommy. I don’t happen to have a rich father, 
as a great many of the young college men 
have. I teach in this school nights to help 
meet my expenses.” 


GETTING ON 


109 


“ And can any one go to college that isn’t 
rich?” asked Tommy, in amazement. 

Mr. Sudbury laughed. “ Why, my dear 
boy, there are a great, great many young fel- 
lows all over this good land who are working 
their way through college. It is one glory 
of our American lads that a large proportion 
of them are sufficiently independent to help 
themselves in any way they please.” 

“ Reckon it’s the glory of me,” grinned 
Tommy. 

“ And a very genuine kind of glory it is, 
too, my boy! You can come up with the best 
of them if you choose, but you will have to 
work for it.” 

This sounded familiar. And in a moment 
Tommy remembered why. In different 
words, Mr. Welch had said the same thing, 
so had Mr. Smart, and Mr. Frankfort. Now 
Mr. Sudbury was repeating it. But Mr. Sud- 
bury was speaking again: 

“ The prince in this country is the man who 
has brains. A beggar can sharpen up his wits 


IIO TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

and get money, but he never can rank with 
men of education and understanding — never! 
And he has to feel it. My particular chum 
at college, Richard Gage, has a rich father, 
a beautiful home, finely furnished rooms at 
Fenton Hall, and all the spending money he 
wants. But Dick is a nobleman at heart. He 
comes of a long line of rich and educated men, 
men who have worked hard in spite of their 
wealth, and my friend means to be a business 
man, like his father and grandfather before 
him. And he knows that he has got to study 
for himself and learn for himself, exactly as 
I must do, in order to stand where he wants 
to in the world. 

“ Good night, Tommy Joy. See you to- 
morrow. Remember Fenton Hall, and ask 
for Mr. Sudbury.” 

Tommy had a long walk to Merchant’s 
Wharf, but he was there almost before he 
knew it. The prospect of going to the college 
grounds, and running about in attendance on 
college men, was simply delightful. 


GETTING ON 


1 1 1 


Aboard the Peggy Lane he found Captain 
Swart seated aft, or at the back of the boat, 
quietly smoking his pipe and watching the 
softly gurgling water. Tommy had pulled 
the bundle containing his old clothes from 
between the piles, and, going up to the cap- 
tain, he asked: 

“ Shall I throw this bundle overboard here? 
It’s got my old clothes in it; they’re all oil.” 

“ May be of some use,” the captain an- 
swered. “Let’s see them. Cats!” he ex- 
claimed, as by the strong light of a lantern 
Tommy held up the pieces. “ I should think 
you’d taken a bath in cod-liver oil with your 
clothes on, but give them here. They’ll be 
just the things to grease the machinery with.” 
He tossed them over toward the engine, and 
Tommy saw them no more. 

“Time to turn in, Mister Joy,” said the 
captain, as Tommy sat down near him. 
“ You’d better go in good season, for you’ll 
have to turn out in good season. We pull off 
a staunch sailer at about five in the morning. 


1 12 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


You’ll have to take your morning nap up 
against the piles.” 

“ ’Twon’t be the first time,” replied 
Tommy, in the matter-of-fact way that often 
made him seem like an older boy. But he 
had to tell the captain what fine luck he was 
going to have in getting a chance to wait on 
the college men once a week. “ And please,” 
he went on, “ won’t you show me how to man- 
age the tugboat some days when I’m on her? 
I want to know how to do lots of things, be- 
cause by and by I want to work my way 
through college.” 

Captain Swart threw back his head and 
softly roared. “ You look so tremendously 
like a college man, you little Joy thing,” he 
said, but his voice was kind although full of 
laughter, and Tommy all at once thought it 
might be as well for him to wait until he was 
a little further on in school before he began 
talking about college. 

Captain Swart noticed that the boy had 
quieted. “ Oh, never mind my laughing,” he 


GETTING ON 


1 13 

said. “ Just you peg away at your books, and 
no knowing where you may find yourself some 
day. You can stay aboard the Peggy in the 
morning if you like. There’ll be a mug of 
coffee and some hard-tack and cheese. You 
can see Tim Mallow make the fire, and watch 
me manage the lever. A young ‘ hand ’ of 
eleven would go for consid’rable of a midget 
in studying navigation or the management of 
water-craft, but it doesn’t hurt any one, either 
man or boy, to learn anything that’s useful.” 

“ That’s what I thought,” ventured 
Tommy. 

“ Not a long trip to-morrow morning,” the 
captain added. “ We’ll be back between 
eleven and twelve, scare up some kind of a 
lunch, then you’ll be in good time for your 
college rinktums. Turn in now, youngster; 
it’s hard on ten. High time young sea-fowl 
was in its nest.” 

Tommy had only time, after lying down, 
for one clear thought: 

“ Seems to me ’most every one is awful 


1 14 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

kind. Seems to me just as soon as a fellow 
wants to know things, every one is mighty 
willin’ to teach him.” 

The crew, a few of whom had slept on 
board, mustered early in the morning. 
Tommy watched Tim Mallow, the fireman, 
as he made a brave blaze in the tug’s engine. 
Then he watched the captain turn on steam, 
balancing the lever well to the centre, in- 
creasing the power or shutting it off, accord- 
ing to the speed he could make with safety. 
At times he must pick his way cautiously with 
the great schooner in tow, and at a bridge 
he must slacken speed, and perhaps lower 
the smoke-stack in order to move securely 
through the drawbridge. 

It was a crisp morning, with an almost 
sharp breeze, but Tommy, with all his priva- 
tions and simple living, possessed one thing 
that many a pampered boy might have envied 
him. That was perfect health. So the breezy 
sail was quite to his mind, and the crackers, 
cheese, and coffee, which he had at seven 


GETTING ON 115 

o’clock, furnished a feast for the haphazard- 
fed boy. 

The lunch was repeated at eleven o’clock, 
and fifteen minutes later Tommy was about 
to leap from the tug to the wharf when a deck- 
hand called him back. 

Tommy stopped at once, for Phil Tower 
had a pleasant word for him always. 

“Would ye be afther readin’?” asked the 
sailor, in a low voice, standing near the boy. 

“ Oh, yes, Phil, I can read.” 

“And can ye read writin’?” 

“ Certin! I can write, too, Phil.” 

“ That’s jus’ wot I were wantin’ to know. 
Whisper then.” Phil put his rough hand side 
of his mouth, and did indeed whisper loudly: 

“ I’ve a letther from me sweetheart, and I 
don’t want inny other marn wotever to be 
knowin’ wot the girl hes to say, an’ ye needn’t 
be tellin’ marn nor beast wot she writes, 
Tommy Joy, but if ye’ll read me the letther 
from her, and write back a bit word as I’ll tell 
ye to her, I’ll be giving ye ten cents, and glad 


Il6 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

to get off that aisy and chape. Is it a bargain, 
thin? ” 

Tommy said he was willing to do it for 
nothing. 

“Which ye won’t!” said Phil, with deci- 
sion. 

It took until after twelve o’clock to suffi- 
ciently read one letter, for Phil must hear it 
all twice, and to write the other to “ Katie, me 
sweetheart dear.” Then Tommy received a 
very welcome dime, for, so low was his purse, 
he had expected to take the long walk back 
from the college grounds. There would be 
no need of that now. 

As he pocketed the dime, he chuckled, 
airily: 

“ I think this is just a happy old world! ” 

Which shows the difference of opinion ex- 
isting on the same subject and at the same time 
between Tommy Joyce and Tommy Joy. 


CHAPTER X. 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 

At about half-past one Tommy was at the 
door of Fenton Hall, inquiring for Mr. Sud- 
bury. A man in plain, dark livery seemed 
bent on having some fun at the shy boy’s 
expense. 

“ Well now, sir,” he began, “ I’m not sure 
as Mr. Sudbury sees gentlemen without they 
send tip their cards. Did you happen to bring 
your card along? ” 

Tommy clapped his hand over his breast 
pocket. The street boy, for all his good face, 
was hard to corner. 

“ Be gum! If I haven’t gone and left all 
my cards at home in the parlor,” he wailed. 
“ What’ll I do! What’ll I do ! ” 


1 1 8 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

The man had to smile. “ You’re not quite 
the greeny you might be,” he admitted. 
“ P’r’aps if I furnished pencil and pad, you 
might write your cognomen.” 

Tommy had no more idea what the word 
“ cognomen ” meant than the man in the 
moon, but he easily guessed it meant name, 
so he replied briefly and drolly: 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ All right, there you are. Go at it now,” 
and from a side pocket the man whipped out 
a pad and pencil. 

But there is no end to college pranks, and 
it is something of a risk for a janitor or waiter 
to try practising them on his own account. 

Up to this moment neither Tommy nor the 
teasing man had seen a tall, lithe form that 
had been rounding a bend by the stairway, 
but suddenly the man, who was in the act of 
handing Tommy the pad with its dangling 
pencil, felt his elbows seized firmly from be- 
hind and held as in a vise, while a rich and 
ludicrously solemn voice called out: 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 


1 19 

“ Tell us the meaning, the exact meaning 
of the word ‘ cognomen,’ man, or you die!” 

“You needn’t pinch so, Mr. Lon Carver,” 
said the man, growing red in the face. 
“ ‘ Cognomen ’ means name, of course.” 

“What name, front or back, quick now? 
my sword hangs dangling.” 

“ Oh, don’t be so funny,” said the man, 
trying to wriggle his elbows free. 

“ Ah, you think you can twitch away from 
my iron grip, do you, Si? No use, and your 
time is getting short. Answer, or I strike! 
Does ‘ cognomen ’ mean Silas or Collins, front 
name or back? ” 

“ Oh, it means either you please, Mr. 
Carver. Let me go, will you? I’m wanted.” 

“ Indeed, you are, are you? Sad, but you’ll 
continue to be wanted until you finish your 
exam. Only fifteen seconds of life left! Does 
‘ cognomen ’ mean first or second name. Man, 
I adjure you, make haste!” 

Tommy was going through a series of low 
chuckles, for the laughable sight of the jani- 


120 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


tor really growing quite mad, his elbows held 
firmly back, and the serious voice of the hand- 
some young man who held him captive, were 
too much for him. Yet he managed to keep 
pretty silent until the bright face behind the 
pinioned man beamed on him with a swift 
nod and a mischievous opening of the eyes. 
At that he exploded in a louder chuckle. 
Then a hollow voice asked : 

“ For the last time, front or back? Here 
mercy ends! ” 

And Collins, knowing well he would not 
be free until he replied, shouted loudly: 

“ Oh, it’s front, and be done with you! ” 

But Silas Collins was not released. 

“ Alas, Collins, you’ve yet one thing to 
learn,” said the college boy, “ for ‘ cognomen ’ 
does not mean a first name, it means a second 
or last one, what we call a 1 family name.’ 
And now” — Mr. Carver took on the tones 
of a grandfather — “ as I have noticed with 
regret and feelings of sadness that you are 
given to pestering such small fry as appear 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 


1 2 1 


at this honored door I feel it my duty to ask 
you to say to this patient chap: ‘ Forgive me, 
fair boy, for tormenting you.’ After that I 
will let you go.” 

“ And I’ll say nothing of the kind! ” cried 
Collins, half-laughing in spite of himself. 

“ Think again,” warned Lon Carver, “ and 
you have one precious half-moment in which 
to decide! Say, ‘ Forgive me, fair boy, for 
tormenting you,’ or I blow a shrill whistle 
which brings to the spot a dozen willing com- 
rades, and up and down this hall you march 
until your little lesson is said. Now then, will 
you speak or march? ” 

Tommy, who knew nothing of college fun, 
or how swift the students were to spring to 
it, expected to see the man kick about and 
show fight sooner than follow the droll de- 
mand. But Silas Collins knew too much 
for that, — knew that at Lon Carver’s loud 
whistle open would fly a dozen doors, and 
the fun-loving young fellows would have him 
marching up and down the hall in an instant. 


122 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

And so he sung out in the piping tones of 
a schoolboy: 

“ Forgive me, fair boy, for tormenting 
you! ” 

Then Collins was released, and to Tommy’s 
great astonishment, when Lon Carver put out 
his hand, Silas Collins immediately shook 
hands in the best of humor. Tommy did not 
know that a slightly worn silk necktie or 
some other useful thing would probably find 
its way to Silas Collins’s hands before the next 
day, yet it would, for, if the young college 
man must have his sport, he generally is kind- 
hearted to the bone and willing to pay for it. 

Collins went to the far end of the corridor 
and knocked at a door. Mr. Sudbury looked 
out. “Ah, it’s Master Joy, is it?” he said. 
“Come to my room, please; there are some 
things I would like to have you carry.” 

Coats and baskets were waiting for Tom- 
my’s strong young arms. Fishing-poles, 
partly disjointed, were in a corner, and it was 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 


123 


evident that a fishing-party was soon to start 
out. 

As Tommy turned around, he saw that Mr. 
Carver had followed him into the room, and 
Mr. Sudbury said, by way of introduction: 

“ Carver, this is one of my evening pupils, 
Tommy Joy. He is the young lad I was 
speaking of this morning. This is Mr. 
Carver, Tommy. Pretty soon you will see 
some more of my friends.” 

Mr. Carver drew up his eyes. “ Happy to 
meet you, Tommy Joy, but let’s see, haven’t 
I looked upon you somewhere before? 
Rather lately, wasn’t it? ” 

Tommy nodded and grinned. 

“ How is this?” asked Mr. Sudbury, a 
grain puzzled. “ Have you become ac- 
quainted before?” 

“ Ah, yes, I remember,” said Lon Carver. 
“ Si Collins undertook to badger this small 
man, and I threatened to come with an army 
and rescue him.” 

That was enough. Gentlemen do not ask 


124 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


too many questions, and Mr. Sudbury laughed 
and was satisfied. 

There came a knock, and another young 
fellow entered the room. Mr. Sudbury was 
to be surprised a second time, for at sight of 
Tommy the newcomer stopped, then, as the 
boy smiled broadly into his face, he ex- 
claimed : 

“ Again! Do I see before me the little man 
who now twice has crossed my path? ” 

“ How is this, Tommy Joy?” the master 
asked, again looking puzzled. “ Have you 
seen my friend, Mr. Richard Gage, be- 
fore?” 

Mr. Gage answered for him: “ I happened 
to see a man trying to bluff the boy one morn- 
ing after letting a can of oil spatter him all 
over. I simply reminded the fellow that little 
Mister Joy had the same rights as any other 
American citizen. We made him understand, 
didn’t we? ” 

He looked with friendly eyes at the boy, 
who nodded decidedly, and Tommy appeared 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 


125 


unable to take his eyes off of the splendid 
figure and proud-looking face of the student. 
He wore a dark flannel suit, which Tommy 
vaguely thought might have grown on him, 
so perfect and easy was the fit; he carried the 
air of a gentleman in every way, even to the 
curiously twisted gold ring on his finger. 

A small party soon set out, bound for the 
river, where it was said a great school of 
mackerel were to be easily caught. Tommy 
carried a few sweaters, a small basket of bait, 
and felt in readiness to serve in any way pos- 
sible. 

The afternoon was one that Tommy long 
remembered. The college men were quick of 
speech and keen of wit. They called each 
other queer names, and joked in a sober way 
that made Tommy burst into giggles he tried 
to keep back. Once Mr. Carver came to his 
help : 

“Shake away, little Joy,” he said; “it’ll 
make you grow.” Yet in the main they kept 
pretty quiet, Mr. Gage remarking that loud 


126 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

talking or laughing was likely to scare the 
fish away. 

Tommy showed himself not a little skilled 
in fishing. He could bait the hooks, unhook 
the flapping fish, and make himself useful in 
many ways. On the return trip, Mr. Sudbury 
showed him how to manage the oars, and 
Tommy keenly enjoyed the lesson. On land- 
ing, he was surprised to find that the little 
company intended to walk the two miles back 
to the college grounds. 

“We’ve been sitting two hours,” said Mr. 
Gage, “ now for a tramp, fishing-basket, traps, 
and all. Think you can stand it, little Joy? ” 

“ Do ask the boy if he can walk it,” clipped 
in Lon Carver. “ Whoever heard of a young- 
ster’s standing a good two miles!” 

Tommy forgot to giggle in his eagerness to 
assure his lordly friends that he shouldn’t 
mind walking twice as far. Oh, anything to 
stay with them! he thought. 

He was overjoyed when Mr. Sudbury asked 
if he could stay and assist at a little supper 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 


127 


in Mr. Gage’s rooms. “A bit of a fish 
spread,” he called it. 

“ Saturday evening,” added the teacher, 
“ a time of extra freedom, so instead of going 
to the dining-hall as usual, we will invite a 
few friends to join us, and you could be use- 
ful at the table and in clearing away. We 
all take hold.” 

“ I’ll clear up everything!” said Tommy; 
“know how, too!” 

On the way home three large lobsters were 
bought and squeezed into a basket. 

At Mr. Gage’s rooms, Tommy stood in 
quiet wonderment. The mirrors, the costly 
rugs, the polished wood floor by doors and 
windows, all looked beautifully to the street 
boy. A richly covered lounge was crowded 
with silken pillows, chairs and tables were 
curiously carved, while tidies and table-cov- 
ers were new wonders to the lad. An upright 
piano stood in one corner, the embroidered 
and thickly fringed silk cover showing the 


128 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

skilled fashionings of India. A thick rug of 
spotted fur, with an animal’s head at one end, 
so pleased and interested Tommy that, for- 
getting his shyness, he asked : 

“ Did that come from an African jungle? ” 

“Ye skites!” exclaimed Lon Carver, 
“where got the lad such knowledge?” 

“ Of what are you thinking, Tommy? ” 
asked Mr. Sudbury, with an encouraging 
smile. 

“ Of the picture in my geography of an 
African jungle, with bears and leopards and 
lions in it,” Tommy replied. 

“You just hit the facts,” said Mr. Gage. 
“My honored sire — sire means father — 
shot the particular leopard that used to wear 
that rug on his back.” 

Mr. Sudbury looked up at the wall. 

“ Whose picture is that, Tommy? ” 

“ Abraham Lincoln’s.” 

“Who discovered America?” asked Mr. 
Gage. 

“ Christopher Columbus in 1492.” The 


A MERRY AFTERNOON 


129 


answers came promptly, as if Tommy enjoyed 
the questions. 

“ Who made the first green cheese? ” asked 
Lon Carver, who seemed to think the exami- 
nation had gone far enough. 


CHAPTER XI. 


A COLLEGE SUPPER 

WHAT followed was so new and strange 
to Tommy that he almost felt as if he were 
some other boy, and not Tommy Joy at all. 

First, he was given a covered basket, some 
money, a little note, and told where he would 
find a fancy bakery a block away. Then he 
was told to enter the building without ring- 
ing when he returned, and to go directly to 
Mr. Richard Gage’s rooms. 

“ We are doing nothing forbidden,” Mr. 
Sudbury took pains to say, “ but we like a 
little feast now and then of our own provid- 
ing.” 

Tommy darted off, and soon returned with 
the things ordered in the note. Several young 
fellows had entered the^ room during his ab- 

i 3 o 


A COLLEGE SUPPER 


I 3 I 

sence. How clean, wide-awake, and finely 
groomed they all looked! 

A gas stove had also appeared, and in a 
large pan some mackerel were beginning to 
sputter, watched over by Lon Carver. In a 
chafing-dish, Richard Gage was mixing some- 
thing that sent out a delightful odor, strong 
of lobster. Tommy thought it charming to 
see these fine young students so expert at 
fancy cooking. On the back of the gas stove 
was a huge coffee-pot. 

A table was hastily cleared of books and 
ornaments, a white cloth was put on it, dishes, 
spoons, forks, and glasses were set out. With 
surprising deftness two or three of the young 
fellows soon had the cakes and crackers 
Tommy had brought disposed in neat piles on 
plates. Cream puffs of delicious aspect filled 
a large platter. 

It seemed but a very little while before Lon 
Carver sung out: u Mackerel is served,” and 
Richard Gage shouted: “ Likewise stewed 
lobster! ” 


132 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Lon Carver put a square of beautifully 
browned mackerel on a plate, Richard Gage 
added a spoonful of tempting mixture from 
the chafing-dish, and Tommy handed it to 
a princely-looking young fellow, who helped 
himself to a fork, a roll, and a paper napkin, 
and announced, as he seated himself at the 
table : 

“ I am about to ‘ fall to.’ I’ve gone away. 
I’m not at home. Don’t wish to be disturbed. 
Can’t see anybody! ” 

In a few minutes all were eating. More 
mackerel was left to brown in the frying-pan, 
the mixture in the chafing-dish was kept hot. 
Tommy handed plates to and fro, as the feast 
went blithely on. Mackerel, lobster, rolls, 
and crackers steadily disappeared. 

Then came cakes and coffee, and Richard 
Gage had brought out from a queer little 
closet at one side of the wall strong cheese 
in small white jars that Tommy longed to 
get a taste of. 

It seemed to the observing boy that never 


A COLLEGE SUPPER 


133 


did men, either young or old, enjoy more 
keenly the food before them than did these 
well-fed young men the feast so quickly pre- 
pared. 

The mackerel vanished, except one long 
piece that Lon Carver said had the name 
“ Tommy Joy ” on it. Just one good spoonful 
of the lobster delight was kept back, Richard 
Gage said also marked for the “Joy boy.” 
The coffee, black and sweet, Mr. Sudbury 
told Tommy to put hot water to before drink- 
ing. Even then the boy thought it beauti- 
ful in its fragrant strength. 

Cakes there were in plenty, and Tommy 
found the smart cheese quite as much to his 
liking as he had imagined it would be. 

By the time he had eaten his generous sup- 
per, Tommy felt as if he were in the company 
of several young lords, and should never feel 
hungry again. 

With plenty of water heated on the gas 
stove, he washed the finer dishes, wiping them 
with soft, clean paper napkins. The chafing- 


134 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

dish and stew-pan were given to Collins, the 
janitor, together with a half-dollar, and the 
request that they be washed and returned. 

As Tommy lingered to neatly pile the 
dishes and wipe out the punch-bowl, in which 
he had carefully washed them, Dick Gage 
seated himself at the piano, dashed off a few 
notes with a firm, brilliant touch, and broke 
into a college song. The air rang out in a 
full, sweet tenor, and then the whole com- 
pany swung into the chorus, fine, well-trained 
voices making a melody that struck poor 
Tommy powerless. 

What! Did young men ever know how to 
play a piano like that? With skilled touch 
and a masterful knowledge of just how to 
make the music soft and pathetic, or grand 
and stirring? “Why, I thought only little 
girls played the piano,” thought poor, un- 
taught Tommy. 

Then such voices! Such singing! Lon 
Carver rolled out a rich, deep baritone that 
made Tommy envious in every bone of his 



“ TOMMY LINGERED TO NEATLY PILE THE DISHES AND 
WIPE OUT THE PUNCH -BOWL” 



























A COLLEGE SUPPER 


135 

slim little body. It seemed to him at the mo- 
ment that the grandest, most beautiful thing 
in the world was to know how to play the 
piano and sing. 

He slipped into Richard Gage’s bedroom, 
for his breast was heaving in a strange way, 
and his underlip would curl like a grieved 
baby’s. Song after song poured forth, as if 
the air was full of sweet sounds born of the 
gay, buoyant spirits of the young. 

Tommy’s lip gave a more ungoverned curl. 
He did not know that something fine in his 
young nature made him admire and appre- 
ciate the pleasing melodies. It might have 
comforted him if he had, but he only mur- 
mured, ruefully: 

“ Such a thing to be born rich ! They come 
into the world with rich fathers and high-up, 
proud mothers, and homes that I don’t know 
anything about.” 

Then he remembered, with a feeling of 
good cheer, that Mr. Sudbury had said he did 
not have a rich father, and was having to help 


136 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

himself through college, and the young mas- 
ter of these fine rooms and the man dashing 
off that correctly played music was Mr. Sud- 
bury’s particular friend. 

“Oh, I mean to study like fury!” gasped 
Tommy, for with these better thoughts came 
another remembrance, — “If the princes of 
this country are the men who know , then I 
have got a chance to climb, and I will climb, 
too!” 

Just then Mr. Sudbury peeped into the 
room. “ Ah, here you are,” he said. 
“ There’s a package on the table by the door 
for you when you go out. There will be 
nothing more required to-night, but you can 
come Saturday afternoons after this until va- 
cation. Here is a little pay for your help. 
You have done very well.” 

“ Oh, but I liked it so much,” gasped 
Tommy. “ I didn’t want any more pay than 
that supper.” 

Mr. Sudbury raised his eyebrows. “We 
shouldn’t think of such a thing as letting you 


A COLLEGE SUPPER 1 37 

help us without some pay, Tommy. Good 
night. Don’t forget the package.” 

Standing by his bunk on the Peggy Lane, 
Tommy found he had in the package a suf- 
ficient supply of crackers, cakes, and cheese 
for Sunday and a part of Monday. The small 
paper roll Mr. Sudbury had handed him 
contained ten ten-cent pieces. Tommy’s eyes 
opened wide. 

“Jinks!” he exclaimed, “if I’m sure of 
a dollar a week, I shall get along stunning.” 

And the boy did get along with what to 
him was real comfort until jthe spring had 
gone, summer had come, a famous “ class- 
day ” had been observed at the college, show- 
ing Tommy such wonders of gaiety, fine 
clothes, and costly cheer as he had scarcely 
dreamed of before. Then Richard Gage and 
Mr. Lon Carver went to their homes in dif- 
ferent States. The night-school was closed 
until September. Mr. Sudbury was also to 
go away, but was to teach in a summer school. 

During the three months that he had at- 


138 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

tended school, Tommy had done so well that 
Mr. Sudbury advised his entering the public 
day-schools in the fall, and, as Tommy wanted 
to keep right on studying, he was allowed to 
take an arithmetic, speller, and geography to 
the neat shelf over his bunk. This was a great 
joy. And he was delighted when Mr. Dick 
Gage one afternoon gave him a small gram- 
mar from his bookcase. 

“ First one I ever studied, Tommy Joy,” 
he said. “ Now, most of its rules are in m'y 
head. See that you get them into yours, well 
in, for you’ll need them with the kind of men 
I expect you will have for companions some 
day.” 

Tommy said “ Yes, sir,” in the dry way he 
sometimes answered when pleased, and other 
speech failed him, but it pleased him im- 
mensely that Mr. Gage, who was to him the 
embodiment of pluck, strength, and skill, 
should take it for granted that he was going 
to make the right kind of a man. 

Tommy meantime had learned to row a 


A COLLEGE SUPPER 


139 


boat, and had become skilled in the manage- 
ment of a canoe, never feeling happier than 
when on the water. One day he said to him- 
self, with a chuckle: 

“ Don’t know whether I’ll be a lawyer or 
a sea-captain when I grow up. Sea-captains 
go all over the world, and glory! how much 
they must learn! Mr. Carver said the other 
night that a smart lawyer could turn things 
topsyturvy, but Mr. Gage said: ‘ Ho, the 
statesmen are the fellows at the top! ’ Think 
I’ll be a statesman. I’ll grow bigger by that 
time.” 

All through the summer Tommy kept at 
his studies. One ambition was to surprise 
Mr. Sudbury when he returned, and then, 
he was truly fond of books. Yet he was a 
fun-loving, active, perfectly natural boy. He 
amused himself hours at a time watching ves- 
sels lade and unlade, and was more than 
happy when Mr. Frankfort took him on a 
fishing trip lasting several days. 

When the fall came, however, Tommy did 


140 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

not enter the day-school. Mr. Sudbury, sur- 
prised and pleased at the progress he had 
made all by himself, said he thought the boy 
would get on more rapidly by still attending 
the night-school in a higher grade, while also 
taking extra lessons and reciting to him at 
odd times. And then, Tommy must still earn 
money. 

Mr. Sudbury’s kindly interest was a great 
help to the street boy, and in his own way 
Tommy realized it. The boy was twelve in 
October, tall for his age, with a bright, at- 
tractive face, and intelligent brown eyes. 

A year sped away. All through the fall, 
winter, and spring Tommy studied, recited, 
and earned money. He made himself so use- 
ful to the college men in various ways that 
the pockets of his suit — which gave splendid 
wear — always contained money. He still 
had his bunk aboard the Peggy Lane , and 
during the warm weather had bought himself 


A COLLEGE SUPPER 


I 4 I 

a light summer suit, socks, handkerchiefs, and 
other articles of dress not enjoyed before. 

This fall Tommy entered the day-schools, 
going in at the eighth grade, showing how 
much the extra recitations had done for him, 
which Mr. Sudbury’s generous aid had made 
possible. 

Then, when he had been in school but a 
month, was just thirteen, and giving promise 
of becoming one of the smartest boys 'in his 
class, something occurred which interrupted 
his busy yet happy-go-lucky days, and inter- 
fered seriously with all his cheerily laid plans, 
— something as unexpected as it was eventful. 


CHAPTER XII. 


HEARING THE TRUTH 

There had come an evening full of anxi- 
ety in the fine house on Beacon Road. . 

It was October, month of brilliant tints and 
cooling winds. Yet no one in the house on 
Beacon Road had suffered from the summer’s 
heat. By the breezy seaside or at the moun- 
tains Tommy Joyce had visited with his par- 
ents in wide hotels, which open their doors 
to people with deep purses and plenty of 
vacation time. 

You see, Tommy is again mentioned first, 
because he still to a great degree ruled affairs 
in the house on Beacon Road. 

Yet Master Tommy had learned one thing 
during the past year and a half. This was 
that he could not rule his father. He had not 


142 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


H3 


become an obedient boy by any means, neither 
had he stopped making things uncomfortable 
for any one who crossed him in any way, but 
he had grown more sly, and in a way more 
quiet. 

A boy of almost thirteen is ashamed to 
throw back his head and scream like a child 
when things do not suit him, that is, if he has 
one mite of manhood in him. But it is just 
as bad to sulk and say rude, insolent things 
as it is to roar with temper, and servants still 
left the house at times because unwilling to 
“ put up with that boy.” 

Mr. Joyce was troubled with a nervous fear 
that some disgrace would eventually befall 
through Tommy’s behavior, and he made sev- 
eral attempts to break up his wilful, trying 
ways. For he had not been without warnings 
that outside as well as inside the home Tommy 
made mischief, and was bent on making it 
whenever he pleased. 

Mrs. Joyce had much preferred keeping 
the boy in select and private schools to think- 


•144 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

in g of entering him in the more mixed com- 
panionships of the public schools. But when 
the term closed in June, the previous year, 
Mr. Slade, master of a truly fine training 
school, where Mr. Joyce had paid large sums 
to have Tommy attend, said to Mr. Joyce 
that he should be unwilling to have Tommy 
return in the fall. 

“ Hard to control? ” asked Mr. Joyce, with 
a smile, yet feeling sick at heart. 

“ Yes,” replied Mr. Slade, speaking kindly, 
yet as if the truth must be told, “ the fact is, 
it makes trouble all through the schoolroom 
to have one lad too independent and deter- 
mined not to obey the rules. I am sorry, but 
I would much rather Tommy would try some 
other school in the fall.” 

Mr. Joyce felt the blood rush to his brow 
with shame. Here was a fine, scholarly man 
refusing to receive his son as a future pupil 
after dealing with him a few months. 

“ Perhaps I had better put him in the pub- 
lic schools,” he said. 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


H5 


“ I do not think he would get along there 
at all,” Mr. Slade replied, promptly. “ If 
you will allow me to advise, I should think 
some school away from home, where the dis- 
cipline is of a very decided nature, would 
be the best place for your son.” 

So when the fall came that year, Mr. Joyce 
put Tommy in a boarding-school where the 
discipline was said to be perfect, a school 
from which boys did not desire to escape, as 
there were many privileges, and the lads were 
allowed to make frequent visits at home if 
desired. 

At the end of two months, Tommy suddenly 
made his appearance at his father’s house one 
afternoon, saying he had been ill and unable 
to study, so the only thing for him to do was 
to return home. 

The truth was, he had run away, perhaps 
with some idea of running back again after 
a few days. But a letter from the principal, 
received two days later, informed Mr. Joyce 
that, as his son had left the school without 


146 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

permission, it might be as well for him not 
to return. “ One such restless pupil will 
affect all the others,” the teacher wrote. “ It 
seems to me it would be a good plan to place 
your son under the care of a private tutor, 
who could devote more of his time to one 
pupil.” 

The tutor came, but, on taking leave in the 
spring, flatly refused, even for increased pay, 
to attempt teaching Tommy again. 

“ Not that your son is a dullard, by any 
means,” he said to Mr. Joyce. “Tommy 
could learn easily if he wished. There is no 
trouble with his mind, but his disposition is 
quite another thing.” 

This fall Mr. Joyce was determined to put 
Tommy in the public schools. There was an 
up-town building that would be convenient, 
and he strongly hoped that, on finding himself 
one of a crowd of bright, ambitious boys, he 
would be ashamed either to lag behind in 
his studies, or to show rude, ungentlemanly 
manners or conduct. 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


H7 


It took but four weeks to find Master 
Tommy at home much earlier than usual one 
day, and at dinner that night he made the 
announcement that he was not going to that 
kind of a place any longer. 

“ You will go to-morrow morning as 
usual,” his father said, firmly. 

“ No, I sha’n’t,” returned the boy. 

Something in the way Tommy spoke made 
his father look at him keenly. He had not 
dared to speak that way of late. 

“ Were you sent home? ” asked Mr. Joyce. 

“ Something of that sort. Old Wilson has 
been down on me right along. He doesn’t 
want me there, anyway.” 

“ I think I’ll see him to-night.” 

Mr. Joyce spoke in a low, even tone, but 
he did not appear to want any more dinner. 
Tommy wished he had kept still, and not 
have let his father know there had been fresh 
trouble. And he felt a decidedly uneasy 
twinge when he saw him go out in the even- 
ing. Yet, if he was regretful that his con- 


1 48 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

duct had not been what it should have been 
at school, it was not because of the shame of 
it, or because of the trial he had been to the 
teacher, no, it was simply because he did not 
know what his father might take it into his 
head to do next when he heard of his capers 
and defiance of the rules. 

Tommy’s uneasiness increased as the even- 
ing wore on. He kept around his mother in 
an unusual way, showing little attentions that 
were very pleasing. He talked also of things 
he meant to do in the future. He was going 
to college, sure! And he thought he should 
be a banker like papa. 

Mrs. Joyce thought how well her boy could 
talk, how much in earnest he had become, 
and what a very good face he had. Here was 
a good chance to slip in a little motherly coun- 
sel, such as she had often wished she could 
offer and be listened to respectfully. 

“Yes, my dear child,” she said, “but you 
know, if you want to go to college, you will 
have to study bravely first. No young man 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


149 


can go to college without a good deal of prep- 
aration. Only think how your cousin Wilbur 
had to apply himself. Nothing would please 
me better than to have you begin studying 
in earnest. And, Tommy dear, can’t you be 
a little milder with the servants, and not quite 
so noisy when I have callers? I really was 
considerably disturbed yesterday when Mrs. 
Larrington called.” 

“ Oh, yes, I’m going to come the gentleman 
from this on,” Tommy replied, “ and I say, 
mamma,” — his voice grew soft and whee- 
dling — “if pa should come home feeling 
kind of mad at things Mr. Wilson says, you 
smooth it over for me, won’t you? I hate 
old Wilson, and I hate most of those namby- 
pamby boys that stick to their books as if they 
were galley-slaves. Cracky! I never saw 
such skulks ! ” 

“ Oh, don’t say ‘ cracky,’ Tommy, it sounds 
coarse, and I wouldn’t call the boys names, 
but come, go to bed now, and remember all 
the good things you’ve promised. Kiss me, 


150 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

dear, and of course you know mother is always 
willing to make things as easy for you as 
possible.” 

Tommy went up-stairs as if intending to 
go to bed. Yet the uneasy twinge that 
plagued him when his father went out did not 
ease one whit after the talk with his mother. 
He must manage somehow to hear what his 
father would have to say after seeing Mr. 
Wilson. Of course he would go right to the 
reception-room, where his mother was sitting, 
when he returned. 

Tommy did not undress, but listened over 
the stairs, and he was fairly rejoiced when the 
butler called his mother to the dining-room 
to see about the arrangement of some new 
dishes in the rosewood cabinet. 

Down slipped the boy, and crept into a 
recess of the reception-room, which had be- 
fore it only some silken hangings. But he 
felt pretty safe, as his parents rarely went 
there in the evening. He could stand in the 
corner behind the loopings, and to-night there 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


I 5 I 

would probably be so much to talk about, 
he would never be discovered. 

He had to exercise patience. Fortunately, 
a covered footstool stood in the corner, or 
he could scarcely have stood the tiresome 
fatigue. 

It was about nine o’clock when Tommy 
started for bed, and his father did not come 
home until half-past ten. If endurance is a 
test of strength, Tommy surely was strong. 

At length Mr. Joyce had entered the re- 
ception-room, and at once began talking in 
a low tone to his wife. 

“ I suppose you know where I have been, 
wife.” 

“ You spoke at dinner-time of going to see 
Mr. Wilson.” 

“ Yes, I have seen Mr. Wilson. I have also 
seen two other men since going out.” 

“ You don’t know how beautifully Tommy 
has been talking to me to-night,” Mrs. Joyce 
hastened to say. “ He has been as attentive 
and gentlemanly as a boy could be, and has 


152 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

been telling of his plans. He means to go to 
college sometime, and I think begins to see 
that he must be more studious if he is to get 
on as he wishes to.” 

“Yes, I should think he was well on the 
road to college,” Mr. Joyce said, bitterly. 
“ Confess to me, wife, did not Tommy sus- 
pect I would hear bad news concerning him 
to-night, and want you to speak a good word 
for him? ” 

Tommy, hiding behind the draperies, felt 
his heart sink at the shrewd question. His 
mother began: 

“ I think Tommy was afraid Mr. Wilson 
might be hard on him, and cause you to be 
hard on him, too. But I wish you could'have 
heard him talk to-night! He seems to have 
made up his mind to be a banker like his 
father. Don’t, pray, let us discourage him. 
We must have faith in our boy. I think 
Tommy means all right, even if he has given 
way to a few boyish whims.” 

Mr. Joyce did not answer for a moment. 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


153 


When he did, it was in tones that both his 
wife sitting before him, and Tommy in the 
alcove, could not fail to understand. 

“ You know whether I have been an indul- 
gent father. You know whether I have been 
generous in my little family, and willing to 
provide everything I could for the comfort 
and happiness of all. But I am done with all 
trifling or indecision as regards my future 
course with our boy. As his father, as the 
one chiefly responsible for his future career, 
I am going to insist on doing what, so far as 
I can see, is the best thing that can be done 
for him. 

“ Yes, I saw Mr. Wilson, and a pretty story 
I heard! With perfect kindness, yet without 
mincing matters in the least, the master said 
he thought that Tommy was as fairly started 
on a wilful, deceitful, unruly course as any 
lad he had ever had to do with. He said he 
was indolent in a way to make other lads in- 
attentive, insolent in a way to make other boys 
impertinent, and sly in a way to cause his 


154 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

nearer companions in the schoolroom to at- 
tempt little deceptions. 

“ He told of finding two books in the boy’s 
desk that no decent boy should read; books 
full of impossible bravery and trashy exploits, 
making a hero of a daredevil boy, whose only 
end would be certain destruction. 

“ As I mistrusted, Tommy was sent home 
to-day, with the command not to enter the 
schoolroom again. And to-night when Mr. 
Wilson said, 1 I am exceedingly sorry to say 
what I have, and can think of but one thing 
I should advise,’ I said frankly I should be 
very glad of any advice he would be kind 
enough to offer. 

“ Then he told of a school, taught by an old 
military commander, a man of superior qual- 
ities for both teacher and director, where a 
boy is compelled, not by cruelty, but by 
staunch rules that cannot be broken, to behave 
himself properly, to learn his lessons, and to 
show perfect respect to his teachers. 

“ Parents are obliged to promise not to 


HEARING THE TRUTH 


155 

take a boy away, nor to let him visit at home 
under six months. He will have regular ex- 
ercise, plenty of plain, wholesome food, stated 
hours for study, and also for recreation. 

“ At Mr. Wilson’s suggestion, I next called 
on a gentleman whose once unruly boy is at 
present only a comfort in the home, and wel- 
come everywhere. He had been at this acad- 
emy. The young man had told his parents 
that the rules were strict and had to be obeyed, 
yet there was never great severity, and nothing 
that could possibly be called cruel. 

“ I was fortunate also in seeing Colonel 
Lester, the principal of the school. I liked 
him very much, and could feel the strength 
and kindness of the man as he talked with 
me. 

“Now, day after to-morrow Tommy goes 
to Sussex, up the Hudson, to this model insti- 
tution. I shall go with him, see his room, 
and the house in which he is to remain until 
next May.” 

“ He won’t be willing to go,” said Mrs. 


156 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Joyce, in a voice that trembled and was full 
of tears. 

“ He will go whether willing or not,” said 
Mr. Joyce, in a voice that was not unkind, but 
so full of determination that the boy behind 
the silken draperies trembled like a leaf. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

RUNNING AWAY 

TOMMY did not have long to remain down- 
stairs after that last remark of his father’s. 
His parents left the room almost at once, and, 
before the butler came to turn off the lights, 
he had scuttled up to his room. 

It takes a good deal to keep a healthy boy 
awake. Not that Tommy Joyce was any too 
healthy, for he ate when he pleased and what 
he pleased, bought all kinds of rich candies, 
and often ate them just before going to bed. 
Of course, he had frequent ill turns, and 
every little while was obliged to stay in bed 
a day or two, which always made him peevish 
and difficult to manage. 

To-night Tommy felt well enough, but he 

*57 


158 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

could not sleep. After a time he began mut- 
tering: 

“ So Papa Joyce thinks he’s going to take 
me to a horrid boarding-school way off in 
another State, does he? A place I can’t get 
away from, where they have plenty of plain 
food, and have to mind a whole batch of 
rules. We’ll see about that! I’ve been think- 
ing of running away for a long time. Now 
I’ll do it, pretty quick, too. 

“ Day after to-morrow he thinks he’ll take 
me, with old Mr. What’s-his-name, off to that 
place up the Hudson. I bet he won’t! If 
mamma doesn’t promise to-morrow to get me 
off from going, I’ll run away to-morrow 
night. Then I reckon there’ll be a muss. 

“ Now how can I get some money? I shall 
want a lot. I can take all I’ve got on hand, 
and all there is in mamma’s purse. Oh, and 
I know a place where pa puts money to pay 
bills with. I can take that. Boys in story- 
books do great things and have splendid times 
that run away. I don’t care what old Wilson 


RUNNING AWAY 


159 


says, and I can go wherever I please, and do 
whatever I want to if I run away. Mamma 
may worry, but I’ll leave her a little note, 
saying I’m all right, and shall prob’bly come 
back a very rich man some day.” 

Then this very foolish young boy fell 
asleep. 

The next morning his father told Tommy, 
kindly but with decision, that the next day he 
was to go with him to a fine school, where he 
would meet a number of other boys, all from 
the best of homes, and where he hoped he 
would try to learn all he could. 

“ It is going to cost a great deal to enter 
you at Colonel Lester’s academy,” he said, 
“ but you will like it, I hope. There will be 
military drill, which most lads enjoy very 
much, and many pleasant things to learn.” 

Mr. Joyce said nothing about the regular 
habits, plain food, and the six months’ ab- 
sence from home which Tommy knew all 
about. 

“ I don’t want to go,” said the boy. 


160 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ We will have a pleasant trip,” his father 
went on, not noticing Tommy’s objection, 
“ for I am going with you to Sussex. I want 
to see the fine building and nice room, where 
I can’t help feeling you will soon feel at home 
and settle down to good work with your 
books.” 

Tommy said nothing more, only the resolve 
he had made to run away became much 
stronger. 

During the next day, however, he hung 
around his mother, teasing and coaxing her 
to make his father change his mind. 

“ My dear boy,” she said, “ I never saw 
your father more determined than he is about 
this matter. I could not turn him in the least, 
and really do not know as I ought to try. You 
had better let father have his way this time, 
especially as he feels sure he is doing the 
very best thing for you he possibly can.” 

“ How long will I have to stay? ” 

“ I suppose papa and the master will have 
to settle that,” was the cautious reply. 


RUNNING AWAY 


161 


That settled it. If his mother was going 
to think it all right that he should go away, 
and not urge his father to keep him at home, 
he might as well think out his plans for the 
night. So to work he set. 

He had a few dollars of his own, found 
more dollars in his mother’s purse, and 
thought himself very lucky when, in the 
drawer where money was put for paying bills, 
he found quite a sum put aside for the ice- 
man. 

A bright boy of Tommy’s age would gen- 
erally be pretty shrewd in laying simple plans, 
and Tommy managed very well about getting 
away. 

At bedtime he seemed so quiet and gentle 
that his mother felt comforted, thinking he 
was going away willingly, after all. His 
father joked him and made promises of com- 
ing to see him once in awhile, and inviting 
Mamma Joyce to come with him. 

The house had been quiet an hour when 
Tommy stole quietly out, leaving the front 


1 62 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

door only half-latched. On his pillow was 
a note, which on the outside said “ Mamma.” 
Inside was written : 

“Dear Mamma: — When you read this 
I shall be far, far away. Let no one try to 
find me. It will be no use. I’m going to 
seak my fortune in other lands, and expect 
to come back a grown-up man and perhaps 
very rich. I took some money from your 
purse I knew you would want me to have 
instid of starveing, and some money that was 
for the iceman. Farewel. 

“ Your son, 

“ Tommy Joyce.” 

Tommy walked straight on until he came 
to a public garden. He was dressed in a 
stylish woollen suit, a thick, warm overcoat, 
and had a handsome travelling-bag in his 
hand. He knew enough to keep out of the 
way of policemen. 

At the public garden he first thought he 


RUNNING AWAY 


163 


would stay a part of the night, and go to sleep 
on one of the benches, as he had seen men do 
when on his way home after attending a con- 
cert or some other evening entertainment with 
his parents. 

He was surprised and vexed that an un- 
comfortable twinge shot through him at this 
first thought of parents and home. He made 
up his mind not to think of either again that 
night. 

Then the garden he was trudging through 
was not after all a place to remain in. He 
grew chilly a moment after sitting down, and, 
besides, he was too near Beacon Road. Some- 
thing might possibly happen to let his par- 
ents know he had run away, then they would 
be almost sure to find him. So he left the 
garden and began travelling down-town. 

It surprised and also cheered him that so 
many people were still abroad in the streets, 
yet he could not help noticing that he did 
not see many boys or girls roaming about at 
that hour. 


164 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Then he began wishing pretty seriously that 
he could meet some other boy. He had 
trudged a long way down-town, and his 
leather travelling-bag was growing terribly 
heavy. There did not seem to be any place 
at which to stop. 

On he went until the streets began to look 
strange, different from any he had ever seen 
before, and not altogether pleasant. Perhaps 
he had better take some other direction. The 
boy had no idea as to where he was. He 
turned into another street, then another, but 
all the time appeared to be getting farther 
down-town. 

All at once he smelled the sea. Ah, and 
there were masts and spars right before him. 
Why not go on to a ship and sail away some- 
where? No knowing how soon he might be 
found if he kept roaming about in his own 
city. But would they take him on a vessel 
without asking troublesome questions? 

Tommy was feeling gloomy and perplexed 


RUNNING AWAY 165 

when all at once he stopped short, and said 
under his breath: 

“ Oh, goody! goody! Here comes another 
boy.” 

Tommy Joy had taken up algebra at the 
public schools, and it puzzled him. He had 
it as an extra study, and it was so much the 
boy’s nature to hold on to anything he once 
began that on no account would he have given 
up and owned himself beaten. 

The next morning three problems were to 
be handed in, one of which Tommy found 
himself unable to master. Work as he might, 
it baffled both patience and perseverance. 

Captain Swart told him that once he knew 
something of the “ aggravating study ” him- 
self, but time and tide had knocked it pretty 
well out of him. As for Mr. Frankfort, nice 
man as he was, Tommy told himself with a 
forlorn little giggle, that he might as well ask 
a mackerel or a bluefish about a question in 
algebra. 


1 66 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“Yet I wont go to school without know- 
ing how to work that out! ” muttered Tommy. 

He wished he had started before, but now 
off he raced, book, paper, and pencil all by 
him. He would scud up to the night-school 
building, and get Mr. Sudbury to help him. 

He nearly missed his man. “ Fortunate 
you were not half a minute later,” Mr. Sud- 
bury said. “ I should have cleared Cornhill 
Road by that time.” 

He was already at the door, but both went 
back to the schoolroom, and for nearly an hour 
Tommy bent to his task, for Mr. Sudbury 
wanted to do no more than merely start him 
in the right direction. 

At ten o’clock Tommy could demonstrate 
or explain the example perfectly. His face 
was one broad, triumphant grin, as he tucked 
book and pad under his arm and started away, 
after thanking Mr. Sudbury as heartily as 
he knew how. “ I hated to call myself beat,” 
he said. 

“ Never be beaten, Tommy Joy, as long as 


RUNNING AWAY 


167 


any one is willing to help you,” Mr. Sud- 
bury replied, “ and remember, almost any 
one who can is willing to aid a boy who is 
in earnest about wanting to learn.” 

The master was nearly as pleased as the boy 
himself at Tommy’s success. 

On the way back to the wharf, Tommy 
began wondering if he could work out the 
example again without looking at the way he 
had done it. Into the ferry-house he darted, 
and under a gas jet went to work again. 

He ran against what he called a “ hitch ” 
in one place, but shortly before eleven o’clock 
he knew there would be no trouble in placing 
it on the blackboard if required. 

He set off for the wharf hopeful and happy, 
but kept lingering to look at the lights on the 
water, for the moon had risen, and sent a shin- 
ing track across the sea, and Tommy, who 
some time before had made up his mind that 
the world was beautiful, thought here was a 
fresh glory to delight his eyes. 

Suddenly he stopped short, and looked in 


1 68 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

amazement at an object directly before 
him. 

“ Hullo,” said another boy. 

“ Hullo,” said Tommy Joy. 

“Where you going?” asked the strange 
boy. 

“ Going to where I sleep,” said Tommy 

Joy- 

“ Round here? ” 

“ Yes, I have a jolly bunk on the Peggy 
Lane ” 

“ The Peggy Lane? ” 

“ Yes, a tugboat moored right here at Mer- 
chant’s Wharf.” 

“ Couldn’t I sleep there, too, to-night? ” 
Tommy Joy opened wide his eyes. Here 
was a lad of about his own age, in an over- 
coat “ such as the swells wear,” Tommy 
thought, polished boots, a hat of the latest 
style, and holding a costly-looking bag, “ and 
asking a night’s lodging aboard the tug,” 
again thought Tommy. 

“ I mean it,” said the other boy, for it oc- 


RUNNING AWAY 


169 


curred to Tommy Joyce at mention of the tug- 
boat that there would be just the place for him 
to hide and yet not be way beyond the reach 
of home. Ah, he had already weakened on 
going so “ far, far away.” 

“ There isn’t any other bunk to spare,” said 
Tommy Joy. “And won’t your folks get 
scared if you stay out all night? ” 

“ My folks won’t see me for a long, long 
time,” replied the stranger. “ They didn’t 
treat me fair and I left.” 

“ Ho, run away? ” 

“Yes, and I won’t go back, either!” 

“ Isn’t your father alive, or your mother? ” 
Now it had not occurred to Tommy Joyce 
to tell a lie about things until this question 
was asked, but in the foolish books he had 
read the dashing boys of roving habits usu- 
ally complained of a cruel uncle or a heartless 
aunt who made their young lives miserable, 
and whose wretched treatment was not to be 
endured, so now he said in a low, sad tone: 

“ I had to live with a hard, cruel uncle. 


170 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

He nearly starved me and did not want me 
round, so now I’m going to work my way, 
and never go back to him again.” 

Tommy thought a moment: “Isn’t there 
some one else you can go to?” he asked. 

“ Alas, no! ” said the strange boy, in story- 
book style. “ I am all alone, but I have some 
money that’s my own, and I’ll pay you if you’ll 
help me out.” 

“ I don’t want any pay, but you can come 
aboard the Peggy Lane if you want to, and in 
the morning I’ll show you over the boat.” 

“That’ll be nice,” said Tommy Joyce. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 

WHEN Tommy Joyce found that the pleas- 
ant-faced lad who had helped him aboard the 
tugboat was going to sleep in a wooden arm- 
chair for the sake of his having a bed, all the 
“ gentleman ” in him awoke and arose. 

“ No, sir! ” he said, “ I turn no other boy 
out of his bed to let me in. I’m glad to stay 
here, and just you give me the chair, and I’ll 
snoozle away like everything. I’m awfully 
tired.” 

Yes, after the excitement of running away, 
and the long, lonely, chilly walk of over two 
miles, the mild warmth from the engine felt 
very good, and even the hard wooden chair 
in the quiet place looked inviting. 

Captain Swart and two “hands” were so 


172 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

sound asleep in bunks on the other side of 
the cabin that the whispering of the two boys 
did not disturb them. 

It was finally settled that Tommy Joyce — 
the other Tommy would have it so — should 
occupy the bunk that night, and Tommy Joy 
the next. 

Whatever Tommy Joy thought of the com- 
ing of this new boy, he was glad to have him 
around. It was something new and agreeable 
to have a companion of his own age even for 
a little while. 

“ Merciful ! What a bed ! ” thought the boy 
of a rich father, as, half-undressed, he crept 
under the gray blankets and laid down in the 
hard, unyielding bunk. Yet in a few moments 
he was fast asleep, and so was the cheerful 
lad in the armchair. 

The boys awoke in the early dawn, and 
Tommy Joy explained that he should start 
for school immediately after his breakfast. 

“ I help clear up the schoolroom,” he said, 
“ and get a little pay for it. How should you 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 1 73 

like a sail on the tug if the captain will take 
you? ” 

The new Tommy caught eagerly at the idea, 
but when Tommy Joy asked Captain Swart 
about it, he said no, it was too uncertain when 
he should start or return. 

“ Then stay on the wharf till I get back 
from school,” said Tommy Joy. “There, 
here’s Mr. Frankfort,” he added; “he’s a 
first-rate man to talk with! ” and scudding to 
the wharf, he had told Mr. Frankfort in two 
minutes all about Tommy Joyce, his cruel 
uncle, his escape from him, and his deter- 
mination to stay away. “ I didn’t want to be 
mean,” Tommy went on, “ so I helped Jiim 
all I could.” Then he beckoned to Tommy 
Joyce to join him. 

Mr. Frankfort looked the boy over, no- 
ticed that he did not want to look him right 
in the eye, and said, simply: 

“ You can sit down on this chunk of timber 
if you like, young man, and for a little while 
I can keep you company.” 


174 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Tommy had begun telling that he wanted 
to get off somewhere and find something to do, 
when Mr. Frankfort, happening to turn his 
head, saw a policeman beckon to him, then 
immediately hide behind a post. 

Getting up quietly, he said : “ Excuse me, 
lad, but I’ve business that will take me away 
a moment or two, but I’ll soon be back,” and 
he lumbered out of sight. 

Now, strange as it may seem, the boy born 
to luxury and soft living, instead of despising 
everything he saw at the wharf, and spurning 
the coarse living and common ways, rather 
enjoyed it all. It is not at all likely he would 
have enjoyed it long, but it had amused him 
when Tommy Joy led him to the tin basin, 
and let him wipe his face on one end of his 
clean towel. Nor did he dislike the plain 
biscuit and hot, creamless coffee Tommy was 
able to offer him. 

Captain Swart did not notice him partic- 
ularly. If he thought in a vague way that 
young Joy had picked up an uncommonly 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 1 75 

spruce-looking companion for a day or so, 
a school chum possibly, that was about as far 
as he got in his observations. 

And now, sitting on a huge block of wood 
at the junction of two piers, the boy felt con- 
tented and full of a kind of sweet revenge, 
inwardly chuckling to think how completely 
he had come it over his father, and escaped 
that old military man, his school, his plain 
living, and his rules. 

But when the breakfast bell had rung that 
morning in the Joyce mansion, and in a few 
moments it was discovered that Tommy’s bed 
had not been slept in, and when the note to 
his mother had been seen and read, Mr. Joyce 
went at once to police headquarters, and a 
search was begun which in an hour’s time had 
resulted in Mr. Frankfort’s being beckoned 
away. 

“ Who’s the kid you were talking with?” 
asked the officer. 

“ Don’t know his name, and don’t believe 
his story,” answered the burly man. 


176 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ What’s his story? ” 

“ Pretends he’s cleared out because an uncle 
was cruel to him. Talks about going farther 
and taking care of himself, and, oh, land o’ 
liberty! ” — the big man’s voice swelled with 
amusement — “all dressed in broadcloth, 
with hands as fine and white as my lady’s, 
and a gold ring on. Gracious, what a young 
noodle! ” 

“ All right, keep him where he is half an 
hour or so, will you? Glance round now and 
then, and when I beckon again, ‘ come sing 
to me, my lad.’ ” 

“ Very well, I’ll tune up in time. Fortu- 
nate I haven’t other fish to fry this morning, 
but, as it is, I’ll help find him,” and Mr. 
Frankfort smiled knowingly. 

Tommy Joyce beamed on him as he again, 
with some puffing, got down beside him on 
the wharf. Then the dockman began an ac- 
count of things he had seen aboard different 
vessels, and the strange boy, it appeared, could 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 1 77 


give very good attention to anything that in- 
terested him. 

It seemed a long time before the policeman 
again appeared, and Mr. Frankfort had 
glanced around many times, when at last he 
saw him beckoning. 

“ I must be excused another few moments,” 
he said to Tommy, “ but you better sit right 
here unless you’re getting tired. I’ll come 
back presently.” 

Tommy said he was not tired the least bit, 
and Mr. Frankfort trundled away. 

Ah, a gentleman was with the policeman 
this time, so fine, cultivated looking a man 
that Mr. Frankfort thought shrewdly to him- 
self: 

“ Oho, young skip-urn’s father! Whatever 
a young gump of a boy wanted to run away 
from him for is a mystery. Reckon he’s a 
hard young ticket! ” 

“ My friend, could I have a short talk with 
you? ” asked Mr. Joyce, as the pleasant-faced 
dockman came up to him. 


1 78 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Certainly, sir, glad to be at your service,’ 5 
was the polite reply. Mr. Joyce thanked him 
and added : 

“ Suppose we walk up the street a little 
way,” and, turning to the policeman, he said: 

“ Please keep your eye on the boy, but try 
not to let him see you.” Then speaking care- 
fully, but not attempting to hide the truth, 
Mr. Joyce told Mr. Frankfort something of 
the trouble he was in, that his young son 
fretted under all restraint, would not study, 
would not remain at school, and had foolishly 
left his good home the night before to escape 
attending an academy where he had made 
arrangements to place him. 

“ His mother knows he is safe,” Mr. Joyce 
went on, “ but I do not think it best to take 
him home just yet. Unfortunately, I met the 
gentleman this morning who is at the head 
of the military academy, and, seeing from my 
manner that something unpleasant had hap- 
pened, he asked plainly if the bird had flown. 
I replied that I hoped he would be on hand 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 1 79 

at train-time, but the master said that he 
thought it might be as well for him to wait 
and enter his school a little later on. I have 
the impression that he may have heard some- 
thing that led him to speak in that way. 
Could you keep the boy around here a day 
or two, and see he is safe? I will make it 
worth your while.” 

“ I think I can,” Mr. Frankfort replied, 
kindly, for he felt the sorrow in this fine man’s 
voice. “ I’ll have him aboard a fishing ves- 
sel, and see he has a good bunk at night, and 
plenty to eat, such as ’tis. The young man- 
child must be saved at all costs.” 

Mr. Joyce suddenly put out his hand and 
grasped Mr. Frankfort’s great, honest paw. 
Here was a man with a rough, seaman-like 
appearance, but a heart evidently as tender 
as a woman’s, and, oh, how beautifully wel- 
come his fatherly words at this trying time! 

“ Lord bless you, sir, don’t take things too 
hard,” Mr. Frankfort blurted out, as Mr. 
Joyce turned his head away. “ Children 


180 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

come into the world with different natures, 
course they do, stands to reason they’ve got 
to! Your boy’s bright as a button. He’ll 
wriggle into line all right one of these days; 
course he will! 

“ Now there’s a Tommy-boy been living 
round this wharf for years, just the age of 
your son, and the very little man that, as luck 
would have it, your boy met and made up 
to last night. He’s sweet by nature. Hungry 
to learn, too. A poor little fatherless, mother- 
less chap that must have good blood in his 
veins. I don’t much believe the youngster 
could do anything wrong; leastwise, he never 
does. 

“ Why, when I advised it, he took to going 
to night-school last year when he was going 
on twelve years. He could read a little then, 
but now, after a year and a half, when he’s 
just getting up to thirteen, he’s in the public 
schools, and coming on famously.” 

“What is his name?” 

“ He’s Tommy Joy, sir.” ‘ 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 1 8 1 

“ Ah, and my son is Tommy Joyce.” 

Mr. Frankfort beamed genially. “You 
don’t say! ” he exclaimed, softly. “ Must be 
they’ll come out pretty even some day, with 
names so much alike.” 

But Mr. Joyce did not smile. He only said, 
in sad, dejected tones: “ I surely hope you 
are a true prophet, and that my dear boy will 
come out all right before long.” 

Mr. Frankfort pondered. The two men 
were sauntering up Bond Street, and for a 
few moments both were silent. Then Mr. 
Frankfort spoke slowly, and as if doubtful 
how his words would be received: 

“ Do you think, sir, you should be willing 
to send your Tommy to sea, that is, if just 
the right man could be found to trust him 
with?” 

“ I have thought of it, but I fear his mother 
would never consent to the idea.” 

“ Wouldn’t he be better off sailing off out 
of harm’s way than staying on land cutting up 
his didoes? ” 


1 82 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“I think he would decidedly! Do you 
know of any such man as you just spoke of? ” 

“Yes, and as good and fair a shipmaster 
as ever stood. He starts for the Spanish coast, 
let’s see, — bless me, it’s to-morrow! Runs 
across the Atlantic after stopping at the In- 
dies, sails into the Bay of Cadiz, stays in 
port usually several weeks, then does con- 
sid’rable cruising. Of course, it’s a sailing 
vessel, and you’d have to count on five or six 
months’ absence, that is, if the boy got a 
chance to sail. 

“ But Captain Warren is about as fine a 
pattern of an all-around man as I ever knew, 
and I’ve known some men in my day. Of 
course, he’s master aboard his own craft, and 
doesn’t stand any disobedience, but he couldn’t 
be cruel, ’tisn’t in him, but he knows how to 
rule, and it might be your boy would chafe 
consid’rable under his management, yet it 
might be the making of him. 

“ Why, I know a man who paid him a thou- 
sand dollars to take his young son acrost to 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 183 

India. Begged him with tears in his eyes to 
let him go. Warren wasn’t as well off then 
as he must be now, and the offer tempted him. 
That chap hadn’t any mother, and was run- 
ning to ruin about as fast as he could tear. 
Well, sir, at the end of a year, he brought 
back about as nice a little gentleman as you 
could ask to see, and he’s stayed a gentleman, 
too.” 

“Where could I see this Captain War- 
ren?” 

“ He’ll most likely be on his vessel now 
over at Tea Wharf.” 

“ Do you think the Joy boy would be will- 
ing to take a voyage if I could make arrange- 
ments with the captain to take them both?” 

“ Oh, I think not, sir. There isn’t a better 
contented little tike in the city than that 
Tommy Joy. It’s true, he’s tremendously 
fond of the sea, but, as I told you, he is making 
splendid headway at school ; he sleeps on the 
Peggy Lane at night, the tugboat your young 
son slept on last night; afternoons he does 


184 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

errands for any one he can, and Saturdays 
he’s around with some college lads who make 
a good deal of him, give him presents, and 
pay him well for what he does. 

“ Altogether the plucky man-child picks 
up enough to swim along with very happily. 
I predict Tommy Joy will be a well-off man 
one of these days.” 

Mr. Joyce sighed. No father, no mother, 
no settled home, poor, picking up his own liv- 
ing, yet happy, industrious, contented, and 
good. A fortunate boy, after all! 

“ I begin to wish very much,” Mr. Joyce 
said, “ that my son could have this schoolboy 
for a mate for the next few months, that is, 
if it can be out of the way of temptation and 
under the best of care. I will try to see Cap- 
tain Warren right away, then meet you again, 
and see how our plans can work. My boy 
would certainly be much better contented 
could he have this other Tommy for com- 
pany ” 

Mr. Joyce left a sum of money, with which 


TOMMY JOY AND TOMMY JOYCE 185 

Mr. Frankfort was to get plenty of food for 
both boys. It would be easy enough to keep 
Tommy Joyce at the wharf. 

At the end of an hour, Captain Warren 
had agreed to take the two Tommys to sea 
at Mr. Joyce’s terms, and have them given 
regular lessons each day by the first mate, 
an unusually scholarly man, who was to be 
well paid for it. 

Then Mr. Joyce succeeded in seeing Mr. 
Frankfort again, and the great-hearted man 
promised to do his best in persuading Tommy 
Joy to take the voyage, especially as Mr. 
Joyce promised to do well by the boy if he 
would consent to his plans. 

“ He never dreams how I’ll miss my 
Tommy-boy,” murmured Mr. Frankfort, as 
Mr. Joyce turned away. 

On the way home, Mr. Joyce felt greatly 
depressed, fearing in the first place that his 
wife would not listen to Tommy’s taking the 
voyage, and in the next place that the other 


l86 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


Tommy would not consent to leave his school, 
his friends, nor the beloved wharf. 

“ My great hope,” he murmured, “ lies in 
the fact that Tommy Joy is ‘ tremendously 
fond of the sea.’ ” 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE PROPOSAL 

Mrs. JOYCE had been told that Tommy 
had strayed down to the wharves, but was 
safe and unharmed. But what would she say 
of the arrangements that the boy’s father had 
so hastily made? 

Yet, in thinking them over, Mr. Joyce only 
strongly hoped that they might be carried 
out. Captain Warren had not been at all 
anxious to take the lads; in fact, had only 
yielded after considerable persuasion on Mr. 
Joyce’s part. And the captain undoubtedly 
was the right kind of a man. 

Something had got to be done, and right 
away. Tommy was getting more unmanage- 
able every day. Now, too, he had carried 
out his oft-repeated threat, and run away. 

187 


1 88 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

True, he had run in a very green, easy way, 
and had soon been found; the next time he 
would probably run farther and into greater 
danger. If he was put to school, there was 
small reason to believe he would ever stay 
long. 

He could not run away at sea. Captain 
Warren had said he should not lay rough 
hands on the boy, at the same time he would 
be made to obey. He also said that, although 
the boys would be under his care and special 
control, they would be to a great extent under 
the teaching and direction of the first mate, 
a scholarly man, who would give them reg- 
ular lessons every day. They also would be 
required, probably under the second mate, to 
attend to certain duties on shipboard, which 
they would not be allowed to neglect. 

All this Mr. Joyce considered would be 
just what was needed, regular, firm, whole- 
some requirements, good for any boy. 

It was pretty hard telling Tommy’s mother 
the plain story: that the lad had wandered 


THE PROPOSAL 


189 


down to Merchant’s Wharf, had fallen, for- 
tunately, into good hands, had made up the 
story about his cruel uncle, and expressed his 
desire to stay away from what had been his 
home. 

At first Mrs. Joyce would not believe that 
Tommy had made up such a falsehood. Then 
she laughed in a nervous way, and said: 

“ Oh, well, I suppose the poor child spoke 
of the world as his uncle, and he probably 
does not think the world has been very kind 
to him.” 

“ It has been far kinder to him in the past 
than it will be in the future, unless, in all 
fidelity, we find some way to make him change 
his course,” was Mr. Joyce’s reply. 

Then, with gentleness and firmness, he un- 
folded the plans that with every moment he 
became more determined to carry through if 
possible. He described Mr. Frankfort, de- 
scribed the sweet-tempered boy who had be- 
friended their Tommy, led up gradually to 


190 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

his visit to Captain Warren, and his decision 
to have Tommy take the voyage. 

“ And is Tommy to be forced away? ” 
cried Mrs. Joyce. 

“ No, he is to be given his choice, but not 
until the last moment.” 

“When does the vessel sail?” 

“ To-morrow, and I am thankful our de- 
cision must be made at once, but let me tell 
you our plan. 

“ I am extremely desirous that that other 
lad whom our Tommy has fallen in with 
should take the voyage with him. He is an 
orphan child that for years has run about the 
docks, is bright, industrious, and has a splen- 
did little nature of his own. Mr. Frankfort, 
an honest, fatherly man, assures me our boy 
could not have a more desirable companion 
for the next few months than this Tommy 
Joy. I am only afraid he cannot be induced 
to take the trip, as he is in the public schools, 
where he is forging ahead with rapidity, and 


THE PROPOSAL 


I 9 I 

is a great favorite with some college men 
who are befriending him.” 

Mr. Joyce had been afraid his wife would 
scorn the idea of this waif of the wharf be- 
coming a friend of her son; but the name 
caught her attention and for a moment amused 
her. 

“ 1 Tommy Joy,’ ” she repeated, smiling, 
“ that is funny. He only needs two more let- 
ters to his name to be another Tommy Joyce.” 

Mr. Joyce followed up the smile. u I wish 
you could see what a fine man Captain War- 
ren appears,” he said, “ and his first mate, 
a man of superior scholarship, is to teach the 
boys as regularly as if they were in school.” 
He then repeated the story of the unruly, 
motherless boy, who, after a long voyage, 
returned quite another lad. 

“ Now, wife,” he added, kindly, “ I want 
you to give your consent to having this plan 
carried out. I want to be able to tell Tommy 
that it meets with your approval.” 

At first the mother could not bring her 


192 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

mind to saying she was willing Tommy should 
go, especially as Mr. Joyce insisted it was far 
better that she should not see him before he 
sailed. 

“ Remember how kind and gallant he was 
to you night before last,” he said. “ But as 
sure as you go to the vessel to-morrow, there 
will be a scene which will result in our being 
obliged to bring Tommy home with us. Cap- 
tain Warren will certainly refuse to consent 
to taking him again, and what my next course 
will be I’m sure I don’t know.” 

Mrs. Joyce winced a little at a note of des- 
peration in the last remark. “ How are you 
going to manage? ” she asked. 

“ Captain Warren is going to invite the 
two Tommys to take a sail on his vessel, the 
Susie Sinclair , when she is towed down the 
harbor to-morrow morning, and Mr. Frank- 
fort means to arrange to go with them also. 
Tommy Joy is to know all about the plan of 
taking the voyage, as no one would wish him 
to go except of his own free will. I have tried 


THE PROPOSAL 


193 


to make it an object to him to consent, and 
only hope the boy will do so. 

u I am to be on the Susie Sinclair when she 
sets sail, but Tommy will not know it. Just 
before the tug is to return, I shall make my 
appearance, and say to Tommy that, as he 
does not wish to remain at home any longer, 
and is unwilling to attend school or do any- 
thing his parents think best, that to prevent 
his running into greater danger or growing 
up ignorant and ungovernable, we have de- 
cided to send him on a sea voyage, where he 
can have a very pleasant, happy time, or a 
very miserable one. If he is turbulent and 
utterly unwilling to go, I shall not make him, 
but I think that, with Tommy Joy for com- 
pany, and the way I shall put things before 
him, he will choose to take the voyage. Now 
what do you say? ” 

After all, Mrs. Joyce was a mother, with 
a mother’s heart. She desired the best good 
of her boy, and could no longer shut her eyes 
to the truth. Tommy was idle, rude, bound 


194 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

to have his own way, and, if he came home, it 
would only be to plunge into fresh trouble. 
So she half-sobbed: 

“ I don’t want my Tommy to be a bad boy. 
I don’t want him to keep running away. I 
can’t tell what I suffered this morning when 
I found he was gone. I imagined him hurt, 
killed, oh, everything dreadful! But to have 
him go to sea! And for five or six months, 
do you say? ” 

“ Yes, they sail for Spain, not so very long 
a voyage; but wouldn’t you rather know he 
was in good hands almost anywhere than run- 
ning into unknown dangers?” 

“Yes, if it has come to that, I suppose I 
would.” 

“ Well, it has come to that.” 

They talked the matter over a little longer, 
Mr. Joyce setting forth the advantages he 
sincerely believed would come of the arrange- 
ments he had been able to make. 

When Mr. Joyce started out with a long 
list of things he was to purchase for the two 


THE PROPOSAL 


195 

Tommys, Mrs. Joyce was beginning sincerely 
to hope that Tommy Joy would consent to 
keep her boy company. 

Meantime Mr. Frankfort was showing 
Tommy Joyce over the fishing-vessel, think- 
ing what a manly boy he appeared. He asked 
questions that Tommy Joy could have an- 
swered years ago, but that was not to be won- 
dered at considering their different circum- 
stances. 

“ I believe I’d like to go to sea,” said 
Tommy. 

“ You’ve no idea how interesting ’twould 
be,” Mr. Frankfort replied, with an inward 
smile. 

The hard task loomed at noon when 
Tommy Joy came bounding to the wharf, 
jingling some pennies earned on the way from 
school, and a paper of baker’s cookies in his 
hand. 

“ Great luck! ” exclaimed Tommy. 11 Car- 
ried a basket of apples to the ferry, and got 


196 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

ten cents for it. Come and dine! Oh, come 
and dine! ” 

“ But you’re invited to a fancy lay-out 
aboard the fishing-boat,” said Mr. Frankfort; 
“ and this young swell, he’s a-coming, too.” 

“ Don’t call me a swell,” objected Tommy 
Joyce. “ I just want to stay around here, and 
be like the rest of the people on the wharf. 
Don’t you see how I’m enjoying myself?” 

“ All right,” agreed Mr. Frankfort; “ let’s 
have our tifficky little lunch, then I must have 
a little talk with my young pardner here, Mr. 

Joy” 

After the rather mixed but abundant food 
provided by the young runaway’s father, it 
seemed only the most natural thing in the 
world that Mr. Frankfort should want to talk 
with Tommy Joy awhile, so while the other 
boy picked his way around the boat, Mr. 
Frankfort went to the wharf, Tommy Joy at 
his heels. 

“ Always can talk better perched on the 
pier,” said the big man. 


THE PROPOSAL 


197 


“ Me, too,” said Tommy Joy. 

Mr. Frankfort was silent for a moment 
after they were cosily seated, then he jerked 
his thumb over toward the fishing-boat: 

“ That one hasn’t run away from any cruel 
uncle, Tommy-boy.” 

“H’m! Knew that all the time, that is, 
nearly all,” said Tommy. 

“Well now, how?” 

“ Oh, just at first he took me in, but soon 
as I got on to his style I guessed most like 
he had a good home, but got riled and stepped 
out.” 

“ Well now, that’s true as you’re born, my 
lad! I’ve seen his father,” Mr. Frankfort 
almost whispered, “ and you must keep whist 
about it, little Joy, but that young rascal has 
run a pretty rig! Been sent home from school 
two or three times with invitations not to come 
back again, and found out his father was go- 
ing to take him to a military school, where 
’twas pretty certain he couldn’t get away, so 
out he bolts at night, wanders down to Mer- 


198 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


chant’s Wharf, falls in with a good sort of lad, 
and gets a bunk. 

“ Well, Tommy, his father knows just 
where he is. I’ve seen him and talked with 
him, just as fair and good a man as ever 
stood.” 

“ Queer,” remarked Tommy. 

“Ain’t it, though? Look what you’d ’a’ 
given for that young limb’s chances. And 
yet, I think there’s the makings of a fine laddie 
in the boy, after all.” 

“ Yes, he’s a gentleman,” remarked 
Tommy, sagely. 

“ How did you find that out? ” 

“ Oh, he has ways just like Mr. Sudbury, 
Mr. Gage, and Mr. Lon Carver. He eats 
from the end of his fork, and uses his hands 
graceful like. I can’t ’xplain ’xactly how ’tis, 
but he’s got folks, fine ones, too.” 

“There’s been a big mistake somewhere,” 
Mr. Frankfort whispered, mysteriously. 
“ Guess there’s been too long a line, too much 
money, lots of babying and coddling, then 


THE PROPOSAL 


1 99 


when it comes to pulling in the strings, up 
jumps my lord and runs away.” 

“Just so,” observed Tommy. 

Mr. Frankfort had been whittling a stick 
while he was talking. Now, for fully five 
minutes he said never a word, but kept on 
whittling, stopping every little while to gaze 
intently across the water. All at once he 
turned to the quiet figure at his side, and asked 
in a sprightly way: 

“ I say, Tommy-boy, how should you like 
to take a sea voyage, sail away — oh, to Spain, 
perhaps, take a long look at the water, and 
see a new land? ” 

Tommy had been taking a far-away look 
across the sea. He still had the far-away look, 
as he replied, indifferently: 

“ Oh, one these days, when I get through 
school, and may be, just may be, college, I’d 
like to take a peek around the world first- 
rate, but now I’m pretty well fixed, and no 
Spain, nor Turkey, nor Greece for me, thank 
you.” 


200 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

This was discouraging, but Mr. Frankfort 
whittled a little harder and tried again. 

“ Sometimes things is curious, Tommy. 
They come about unexpected, but ’tisn’t best 
ever to decide things in a hurry. It’s better 
to weigh all sides of a question, as you might 
say. Now s’posing a sea voyage could do 
more for you for ’bout six months or so than 
your regular schooling, you’d take it, of 
course.” 

Mr. Frankfort spoke in so matter-of-fact 
a way, as if merely arguing a point for the 
sake of arguing, that Tommy replied in the 
same matter-of-fact, unsuspecting way: 

“ No sea voyage could do more for me than 
school is doing. One of the deck-hands on 
the Peggy Lane is all the time talking ’bout 
his sweetheart. One day he said: 4 The old 
Peggy Lane’s my sweetheart,’ — school’s 
mine! ” 

The whittling stopped while Mr. Frankfort 
searched about for a new tack: 


THE PROPOSAL 


201 


“ Still, they say there’s nothin’ educates you 
like observing things, Mister Joy.” 

Tommy threw up his hands in tragic style: 

“True, oh, true, that’s why I’m observing 
my school-books, and things round the col- 
lege, and on the jolly Merchant’s Wharf at 
the rate I’m a-doing!” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


TOMMY DECIDES 

IT seemed a hopeless case trying to catch 
Tommy except by telling the story out and 
out, yet it seemed better to ask one more in- 
direct question: 

“ Well now, s’posing, lad, just s’posing, 
that by giving up school-going, but keeping 
up school lessons and taking a sea trip, you 
could help rescue another man-child?” 

At that Tommy grew suspicious. Looking 
Mr. Frankfort sharply in the face, he asked: 

“ What you driving at? ” 

Mr. Frankfort coughed, and looked the 
other way. 

“ Well, you see, Tommy lad, you’re pretty 
dear to me. I’ve seen you toddle and skip 
crost this wharf ever since you was knee-high 


202 


TOMMY DECIDES 


203 


to a button. And I’ve been more tickled with 
all this school business, and the college men 
taking to you, and all that, than I could pos- 
s’bly tell of. 

“ Now, here comes this father of another 
Tommy-lad, that loves his boy, well, I really 
s’pose he loves him better than I do you, be- 
cause, you see, he’s his own born child; noth- 
ing like your own born child, Tommy. But 
this other cust’mer, he’s a case! Doesn’t want 
to mind anybody, won’t mind anybody, just 
wants to lord it over every living soul he sees, 
— parents, teachers, servants, ev’rybody! 

“Of course this won’t do. And because the 
youngster finds out that he is to be taken care 
of, out he clears. Policemen find him quick 
enough, then comes his father, a real a-m-to- 
crat, — that means a high-born sort, Tommy, 
with brains of his own, and ideas he got from 
his daddy and his granddaddy and way back 
of them, — and he asks of a poor dockman, 
does this high-stock gentleman, what can he 
do with his unruly son. 


204 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


“ I spoke of the sea, and Captain Warren, 
— by the way, Tommy, the very craft you’ve 
been wishing you could go aboard of, — then 
I took to bragging about you. That’s where 
all the trouble come in, Tommy dear. I told 
what a scholar you was, and was going to 
keep on being, and how you’d always behaved 
yourself, and what does this rich man do but 
off he goes to Captain Warren, offers no end 
of money to have him take two boys to sea, 
and gets your poor old Uncle Frankfort to 
urge you to go with this Tommy swell for 
company.” 

Mr. Frankfort’s voice grew husky: “It 
strikes me hard, boy, strikes me hard, but, if 
the Joyce lad was my man-child, I’d go the 
length of the earth, if I had to, to set him 
right. That’s why I’m willing to give you 
up.” 

Tommy’s mind acted swiftly, taking in the 
whole outlook. His young voice swelled with 
a certain hurt, as he asked: 

“ So you think I ought to give up school, 


TOMMY DECIDES 


205 


and go to sea, to help a bad boy get good? 
Is that just, Mr. Frankfort? ” 

The dignity as well as the intelligence of 
the question both pleased and grieved the 
kind-hearted dock-master. 

“ Now, Tommy, a judge on the bench 
couldn’t ’a’ asked a reason’bler question than 
that. But do you think I’d ever recommend 
anything that hadn’t your good in it? You 
haven’t heard it all, boy, you haven’t heard 
it all! There’s a scholar of a man aboard the 
Susie Sinclair, the first mate, is going to give 
regular lessons to both you boys. Mr. Joyce 
has left money for you to buy the books you’re 
studying, all you want of them. And he tells 
me, does Mr. Joyce, that some men pay big 
salaries to have their boys ‘ tootored,’ he called 
it, that is, they pay big sums to have one man 
boost one boy along in his lessons. 

“ And that isn’t all ! that isn’t all ! You and 
the other Tommy are to sail for Spain, go 
ashore with the mate, see strange sights, have 


206 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

money to spend for pretty things, and go to 
jolly entertainments. 

“ And there’s still more, Tommy, there’s 
still more!” 

Mr. Frankfort’s voice grew cheerier and 
full of pleasant promise: 

“ Mr. Joyce, he says that if you’ll go on 
this trip with his son he’ll keep an eye on you, 
help you along, and see that you keep on 
studying. Think of that, Tommy-boy, 1 keep 
on studying!’ Why, I shouldn’t wonder if 
it meant college for sure. At any rate, a rich 
man will be your friend. Bless me, I don’t 
believe there’s a chap in town unless he’s rich 
himself would refuse such a chance. Go in, 
child, go in, I say, and reap all the good you 
can!” 

For answer, Tommy turned slowly around, 
and asked a question that both touched and 
pleased his companion: 

“Where do you come in?” 

Mr. Frankfort swallowed suddenly, but 
replied : 


TOMMY DECIDES 


207 


“ I’m just thinking of you, Tommy, and 
that other lad. Never you mind about me. 
I keep awful busy, you know. It isn’t wise 
to let a spanking good offer go by for better- 
ing yourself. You better see Mr. Sudbury, 
and get his advice. I know it beforehand. 
Then see the schoolmaster, get a list of books 
needed, and I’ll see they get aboard the Susie 
Sinclair all right. 

“ To-morrow morning Captain Warren in- 
vites you and young Joyce to sail on the Susie 
while Captain Swart tows her out. No dan- 
ger but the other boy will accept. Mr. Joyce 
is going to have a trunk put aboard the vessel 
in the morning with a complete sea rig in 
it for two lads. He thinks he’ll manage his 
boy without difficulty when the time comes. 
He’ll be aboard, but you mustn’t let the other 
Tommy know it.” 

“ His father takes it for pretty certain that 
I’ll go,” said Tommy, still speaking dubi- 
ously. 

“ He appeared to reckon on your being a 


208 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


tol’rably sensible lad,” returned Mr. Frank- 
fort. 

“ P’r’aps I better go see Mr. Sudbury,” 
said Tommy, getting up and moving slowly 
away. 

“ Here, take this money; you may want 
to use most of it before you get back,” and 
Mr. Frankfort handed out a roll of bills that 
Tommy carefully tucked away. 

But if Tommy of the wharf went away 
with slow step and a sober face early in the 
afternoon, he came back toward evening at 
a brisk pace and with his usual merry, beam- 
ing countenance. Moreover, he brought with 
him a heavy package of books, neatly done 
up in thick wrapping-paper and with a con- 
venient handle caught in the stout twine. 

Mr. Frankfort was still at the wharf, and 
hailed him as he hurried along. 

“ Brought the books, didn’t you, sonny? ” 

“ Yes; Mr. Sudbury said ’twas ‘ the chance 
of a lifetime! ’ Mr. Gage came into the room 
while we were talking, and he said no matter 


TOMMY DECIDES 


209 


what took me ‘ abroad/ I had the very dandy 
of an op’tunity to see a lot, learn a lot, and 
improve a lot. He talked fine! He said 
troops of men wished all their lives they 
could go across the ocean, but never could. 

“ Then I went to see Mr. Fowler, my 
schoolmaster. He said I’d better go, though 
he was sorry to miss me out of the class. He 
said I needn’t lose a lesson, but could get 
ahead of the class if I chose. And he went 
with me to the store, and picked out all the 
books I’d want. He was jolly kind!” 

Then Tommy asked, with some concern in 
his voice: 

“ Say, you don’t s’pose that other boy’ll kick 
up Caesar, do you, when he finds he’s got to 
mind and study and all that? ” 

Mr. Frankfort’s round face broke into a 
broad smile. 

“ Shouldn’t be a bit s’prised if there was a 
circus or two at first, but the lad isn’t a fool, 
and I’ve an idea that when he finds himself 
cornered, stuck where he can’t get away, and 


210 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


no use to raise any extry breeze, he’ll give in 
and behave beautifully. You see, there’s good 
blood somewheres in his little corp’ration, and 
sooner or later it’s bound to tell.” 

Then Mr. Frankfort took charge of the 
books, and Tommy ran aboard the tugboat. 

On the fishing-vessel, Mr. Frankfort found 
that Tommy Joyce was already in his bunk 
and fast asleep, a finely embroidered ruffle 
curling about his white neck. 

“ He’s a dainty young fowl to go sailing 
the seas away from his mother,” whispered 
the big man, a twinge of pity arising in his 
heart, “ but I declare he’d better have a knock 
or two than be spoiled outright, and he, noth- 
ing but a fledgeling. I’d say it of my own 
boy.” 

Half an hour more and there was not a soul 
awake either on the fishing-smack or the 
Peggy Lane. But aboard the Susie Sinclair, 
Mr. Joyce was taking leave of Captain War- 
ren. The two men had talked another hour. 
The captain had received money enough to 


TOMMY DECIDES 


21 1 


give the two Tommys all the fun and amuse- 
ment it was best they should have when on 
land, and the first mate was duly engaged to 
teach the lads. 

The closely packed trunk was to be sent 
aboard early in the morning, and Captain 
Warren said he had games, a few story-books, 
and puzzles in the cabin. When Mr. Joyce 
proposed sending a box of confectionery with 
the trunk, the captain said no. 

“ There will be good, wholesome food in 
plenty,” he added, “ but plain, simple fare 
in the main is best for young boys, yet that 
doesn’t mean there won’t be luxuries enough 
and occasional treats aboard ship, because 
there will be.” 

“ I sha’n’t talk with my man-child until 
shortly before leaving the vessel to-morrow 
morning,” said Mr. Joyce, almost uncon- 
sciously borrowing Mr. Frankfort’s expres- 
sion, and speaking in a depressed tone. 

“ Perhaps that will be best, sir,” Captain 
Warren replied, “ but I think you will see 


212 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

a fine, obedient lad, and also a healthier-look- 
ing one than he is now, springing to greet you 
when the Susie Sinclair comes sailing back 
from the Spanish main. I’ve caught a 
glimpse of the boy.” 

“ Oh, I hope so,” said the father, as he 
went carefully down the ship’s ladder to the 
wharf. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

AFLOAT 

The next morning when Mr. Frankfort 
gave Captain Warren’s invitation to the boys, 
it was accepted in high spirits. 

“ Been wanting to board that ship ever 
since she landed,” said Tommy Joy. 

“ Do vessels land?” asked the other 
Tommy, with a boyish shrug. 

“ No, they come up alongside,” said the 
wharf lad. 

“ Both you urchins has cut your eye-teeth,” 
said Mr. Frankfort, meaning one was as 
bright as the other. 

It was still early when they started for the 
great vessel, Tommy Joyce taking his trav- 
elling-bag, as Mr. Frankfort said he had bet- 
213 


214 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

ter not leave it around on the fishing-boat, and 
they all three away. 

At the end of the next pier the boys were 
handed up to the vessel, a couple of sailors 
catching hold of them at the end of the short 
ladder. There the little party stood on deck 
watching the Peggy Lane swishing close to 
the great ship. 

There was considerable shouting, a good 
deal of running to and fro, and at last the 
captain called: “ Loosen your fasts! ” There 
was a straining of ropes, a clanking of chains, 
the Peggy Lane puffed and steamed and 
whistled, and slowly, very slowly at first, the 
Susie Sinclair put out to sea. 

Mr. Frankfort pointed out certain things 
as they glided along, and Captain Warren 
paused to shake hands with the boys, and give 
them a word of welcome, looking them 
sharply over as he did so. Then he beck- 
oned to his first mate, Mr. Waters, to whom 
he introduced the boys, a tall, soldierly look- 
ing man with whom both lads enjoyed talking. 


AFLOAT 


215 


Next a sailor came along, and, knowing 
nothing of the true state of affairs, sung out: 

“ Hullo, shipmates! Bound for the land 
of the Spaniard, are you?” 

“ I wish we were,” said Tommy Joyce. 

They steamed along for a couple of hours. 
Rolls, cold meat, cakes, preserves, and cof- 
fee were served in the dining-saloon. Then 
there seemed to be some confusion. Mr. 
Frankfort went up the companionway or 
cabin stairs, made a salute to Tommy Joy 
which the other boy did not see, and disap- 
peared. 

After a few moments Tommy Joyce strolled 
into the main cabin, where, to his intense sur- 
prise, he found himself face to face with his 
father! 

“Why, papa!” faltered the boy, as a trou- 
bled frown stole over his face, “ why, papa, 
I suppose you’ve come to take me home.” 

“ And what then?” asked his father, with 
a smile. 

“ I don’t want to go.” 


21 6 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Rather go to sea? ” 

The sharp boy wondered on the instant if 
this had all been planned. If so, he was going 
to stay “ game ” if he died for it. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

Tommy spoke proudly and without hesi- 
tation, although his young face flushed and 
his hands shut tight. His father thought he 
looked quite like a little man. 

“ Did you know where I was all the time, 
papa? ” 

“Not quite all, but we — the police and 
I — soon found you. As you appeared con- 
tented and happy, it seemed best to let you 
alone. And as no dear child of mine shall 
spoil his whole life by waywardness and reck- 
lessness, if I can help it, mamma and I have 
decided on one of two things to be done, — 
you can, if you like, take this voyage to 
Spain.” 

“Does mamma want me to go?” Tom- 
my’s voice was just the least bit shaky, as he 
put the question. 


AFLOAT 


217 


“ She gives her consent to your going. We 
neither of us exactly want you to go, my boy, 
but it will be either this or a school in the 
country, where escape will be made impos- 
sible.” 

“ I’d rather go to sea,” said Tommy, bright- 
ening. 

“ I feel sure you would enjoy it better. 
You can have a very enjoyable time if you 
choose, but there will be hours for study and 
rules to obey. You will be under the care 
of the captain mainly, yet the first mate is 
to act as your teacher, and will see that 
your lessons are not neglected. Remember, 
Tommy, they have no fooling about obedience 
on shipboard! I am delighted that you want 
to take the voyage, but there will be no coax- 
ing or begging about the matter of minding, 
no one to run to for pity or petting if you 
offend the captain or the other officers.” 

Tommy gasped. “ Are you all going back 
on the tug, you and Mr. Frankfort and 
Tommy Joy? ” 


21 8 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


“ No, Tommy Joy has been induced to go 
with you. I have had to see and talk with 
Captain Warren and Mr. Frankfort, as you 
must know, but until this morning I have not 
seen Tommy Joy, and now have only caught 
a glimpse of him. A remarkably nice boy, 
I am told. He gives up school, where he 
was getting on grandly, and at my desire goes 
on the voyage. This other boy will doubtless 
be studious and obedient. I hope my boy will 
do as well.” 

A look of the old defiance flickered over 
the lad’s handsome young face. 

“ I reckon I’ll get on well enough,” he said. 
“ I’m willing to study some.” 

“Well, remember, mother and I will be 
thinking of you constantly, and trusting you 
are doing well and are happy. There goes 
the whistle, I must start for the tug. Captain 
Warren will write to me when he can and 
report progress. I suppose you send your 
love to mamma.” 


AFLOAT 


219 


“ Yes, oh, yes,” said Tommy, stiffening, as 
his father put an arm around him. 

Suddenly the boy threw both arms around 
his father, snuggled his face in his neck, and 
half-sobbed : 

“I reckon I’ll come out all right. I — I 
sha’n’t forget you and mamma. I’m awful 
glad the Joy boy goes with me.” 

A second whistle sounded from the tug, and 
Mr. Joyce turned away. As he stood on the 
Peggy Lane , he said to Mr. Frankfort: 

“ I’m very glad my boy did not once say 
he did not wish to go to sea.” 

“ Oh, he’ll be one of the very nicest of lad- 
dies you ever set eyes on one of these days, 
sir,” broke out Mr. Frankfort, as if it was 
a relief to comfort some one else who felt 
the need of comfort just then. 

The sputtering tug turned cityward. 
Tommy Joy, from the side rail of the Susie 
Sinclair , waved his handkerchief to Mr. 
Frankfort, who sent a red silk banner covered 


220 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

with white dots — his Sunday best kerchy — 
fluttering in response. 

But Mr. Joyce did not watch the receding 
vessel, neither was there any other Tommy 
boy looking after the running-away tug. 

Tommy on the deck watched the Peggy 
Lane until she rounded a point where other 
vessels shut her in, and the red flag disap- 
peared. Then he went down to the cabin, 
where he found Tommy Joyce; the last 
named boy looked pale, and had little dark 
rings under his eyes, but he smiled slightly, 
as if amused, as he said: 

“ I say, my daddy came aboard to tell me 
good-by. Cute of him not to let on he knew 
what I was up to till the last minute, wasn’t 
it?” 

“ Yes,” answered the other Tommy, dream- 
ily, then he added, with animation, “ My 
sakes, but it must be great to have a father 
like that! I expect your mother’s awfully 
nice, too.” 

Tommy Joyce nearly choked, but there 


AFLOAT 


221 


was something he seemed in a hurry to say. 
He began: 

“Yes, my mother’s all right, but I don’t 
want any one to think I’m an awful story- 
teller. I made up that yarn about having a 
cruel uncle, because I thought that old mili- 
tary-school man my father wanted to take me 
off with would be just like a cruel old uncle, 
but you needn’t think I tell lies about every- 
thing, Tommy Joy, because I don’t! It was 
real good of you to give up school and all that 
to come along with me. I’ll never tell you a 
lie as long as I live. Don’t you believe me? ” 

He was looking Tommy Joy squarely in 
the eye as he spoke, and Tommy replied with 
a vim: 

“Of course I do! Yes, for certain!” 

Then the captain found time to go to the 
cabin with the first mate, Mr. Waters, and 
both men stood around a few moments chat- 
ting with the boys, putting them at their ease, 
and saying they must learn to feel at home on 
the ship. 


222 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Nothing was said about books or lessons 
that day. They were free to wander about 
at will, seeing the strange sights, many of 
which were far more new to Tommy Joyce 
than to Tommy Joy. Good-natured sailors 
were glad to explain anything that neither lad 
quite understood. 

Everything like regret was soon forgotten 
by both Tommys, as they roamed about, or 
stopped to watch the vessel go steadily on 
over the quiet water. 

“ Have you seen your staterooms? ” asked 
Mr. Waters, as he came upon them later. 
“ No? Then come on and let me show them.” 

The young voyagers were looking the next 
moment with pleased eyes at two small cub- 
bies, one back of the other, with good wide 
berths in them, neatly spread with colored 
quilts, and having snowy pillow-cases. In 
each were three good drawers built against 
the wall, a wash-stand, a mirror screwed to 
the wall, and a comfortable chair. 

“ Here are some of your things,” said Mr. 


AFLOAT 


223 


Waters, and, opening the drawers, he showed 
them underwear, stout suits, one for each, 
sea caps, combs, brushes, and other useful 
articles. 

“ The trunk outside against the cabin pas- 
sageway,” added the mate, “ contains great- 
coats, oilskin suits, rubber boots, and strong 
sou’westers. After you have used them, they 
must be dried, and kept in the trunk, all but 
the boots; they can be kept in a bit of a closet 
next the kitchen. Everything has to be kept 
in great order on the vessel; ‘ shipshape,’ we 
call it. No great amount of room to ‘ house- 
keep ’ on board, so order is one prime rule. 
You boys will be taught to make up your 
beds, dust your rooms, keep them tidy and 
free from rubbish.” 

Tommy Joy looked greatly pleased at all 
he saw and heard, and his satisfied grin 
showed how willingly he would do everything 
that was required. This smart little stateroom 
was a great contrast to the rough bunk that 


224 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Tommy had yet deeply prized on the tugboat 
Peggy Lane. 

But, while Tommy Joy looked his pleasure 
and surprise at his new room, its comfortable 
furnishings, and his beautiful new outfit, 
Tommy Joyce looked surprised in another 
way, and almost scowled as he said: 

“ I don’t know how to make a bed or dust 
a room. I’ve never done such things/’ 

“You’ll do them now,” said the mate, 
calmly. “ You will be shown exactly how to 
spread your berth, keep the dresser in order, 
hang up a few things on the pegs you see, and 
dust the few things in the stateroom. Your 
father has kindly provided everything need- 
ful for the comfort of both of you lads. We 
shall see that you take the best care of them 
possible.” 

Mr. Waters had a clear, dark eye that 
Tommy Joy thought said almost as much as 
his quiet, steady voice, and he trembled at 
hearing Tommy Joyce speak to him so inde- 
pendently. He knew a little more about ship- 


AFLOAT 


225 


masters and ship’s officers than the other 
Tommy, and he peered shyly around to see 
if he would dare say any more. 

But the Joyce lad was sharp-eyed himself, 
and had caught a look in the mate’s clear 
eye that brought back his father’s warning 
that there was no fooling about obedience 
on shipboard, and, as he did not want to begin 
by having trouble the very first day, he made 
no further reply. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


A SHARP LESSON 

The next morning both lads were awak- 
ened by a loud thumping at their stateroom 
doors, and a brisk, jolly voice calling: 

“ Come, time to turn out. Breakfast in 
twenty minutes ! ” 

The voice was that of Mr. Hemming, the 
second mate, and at once Tommy Joy bounced 
out of his berth, having slept in a soft bed, 
and such a soft, new garment as he had never 
known before. Then lo, another surprise! 

His shabby, long-used suit had been re- 
moved while he slept, and there, on and over 
the chair, was a complete outfit, from collar 
to socks and shoes, everything that a well-clad 
lad would be supposed to want. 

226 


A SHARP LESSON 


227 


When Tommy had peeped at the smart 
new clothes in the side drawers, he had sup- 
posed he would wear them when the vessel 
reached Spain. But here were many of them 
spread out for immediate use. 

How thoughtful of Mr. Joyce to have so 
quickly provided such warm, convenient, and 
sensible clothing! 

But another great luxury first awaited 
Tommy. He had actually dreamed of it in 
the night, it had looked such a delight the 
evening before. Seizing a plump sponge 
from its snug holder, and pouring water from 
a pitcher held in a deep socket into the basin 
in its still deeper frame, he swished the cool 
water all over his healthy young body, plung- 
ing first one foot, then the other, into the deep 
basin. 

He had to balance pretty shrewdly against 
the bit of partition between berth and wash- 
stand to perform this feat, but he managed 
it. Then the fresh, clean towels, a pair of 
them all to himself, made poor Tommy think 


228 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

of riches, and the nice things money would 
buy. 

He next proceeded to dress. Astonishing 
how things fitted! After his hair was neatly 
combed and his simple, comfortable toilet 
completed, Tommy wondered if there was a 
king in the world who felt grander than he. 
He had caught glimpses of himself often in 
mirrors before, especially at the college 
rooms, and when Mr. Smart had let him see 
himself in his first decent suit of clothes; but 
now, when the boy first saw himself well 
dressed throughout, even to turned-down, 
striped linen collar, and linen necktie, hair 
deftly curling to either side, — it would part 
in the middle, — it fairly made him blush to 
view himself. 

“ Hope I don’t look like a girl,” he mut- 
tered; “’most appears as if I did.” 

All at once he began wondering about 
Tommy Joyce, from whom he hadn’t heard 
a sound, and it must be confessed he had been 


A SHARP LESSON 


229 


so taken up with his beautiful new surround- 
ings he had not thought of him, either. 

He banged on the wall. No answer. He 
banged again. 

“What do you want? ” came sleepily from 
the other side. 

“ Oh, come, I say! Get up, Tommy. Don’t 
you know breakfast was to be ready in twenty 
minutes? You’ll be awful late.” 

“Well, I don’t care. I’ll get up pretty 
soon. What’s the use in hurrying?” 

“ But they are partic’lar on shipboard, 
Tommy. I’d hurry if I were you.” 

“ Are they? Well, I’ll be ready before 
long. I guess the breakfast can wait. I ain’t 
used to hurrying.” 

“ Dear me, I wish he’d stop tellin’ what he 
isn’t used to,” Tommy Joy whispered a bit 
impatiently to himself. It made him dread 
something. 

A gong sounded, and the lad who stood 
dressed left his stateroom and went to the 
dining-saloon. 


230 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Good morning, sir,” said Captain War- 
ren, breezily, “ and where is the other sailor 
boy?” 

“ I think he will be ready soon,” Tommy 
replied. 

The breakfast of fried bacon and eggs, soft, 
hot biscuits, and coffee, the last given Tommy 
rather weak, was most delicious to the wharf 
boy. The captain, mates, and boatswain, or 
“ bo’s’n,” as he was called at sea, sat at the 
cabin table, the two boy passengers now to 
be added to the list. 

The meal was nearly over when Tommy 
Joyce walked into the saloon, head up, man- 
ner easy, carrying himself quite like a young 
lord. Tommy Joy could not help admiring 
the well-born air he thought he carried. 

“You’re late,” said Captain Warren, not 
unpleasantly, in answer to the boy’s “ Good 
morning.” 

“ Yes, I’m most always late to breakfast,” 
Tommy replied. 

No notice was taken of this remark, Tommy 


A SHARP LESSON 


231 


Joy wondering that no one acted as if it was 
heard. 

As the rest of the company arose from the 
table, leaving Tommy Joyce to eat his break- 
fast alone, the captain said, mildly: 

“ I would like to speak to you two lads in 
the cabin, directly after Master Joyce finishes 
his breakfast.” 

Nat Lorrin, the colored cook, waited upon 
Tommy as he had upon the rest at breakfast. 
When the boys entered the captain’s cabin, 
a cheery, goodly sized room, comfortably fur- 
nished with bookcase, table, and cushioned 
seats running around two sides, Captain War- 
ren told them to be seated, as he wished to 
tell them of the rules that would have to be 
observed during the voyage. 

“ First,” the captain began, wasting no 
words, “ breakfast is to be served promptly 
at half-past seven each morning. You will be 
promptly roused twenty minutes before that 
time. Either one not present five minutes 
after the gong sounds will have no breakfast, 


232 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

and nothing to eat until dinner-time. Dinner 
will be ready at half-past twelve, supper at 
six. Either lad more than five minutes late 
at either meal will have nothing to eat until 
the next one. You are to start for bed 
promptly at nine in the evening; one of the 
mates will remove your lights at quarter-past 
nine. 

“ Should you grow hungry during the 
evening, Nat Lorrin, the steward, will give 
you some biscuits. Nothing else will be al- 
lowed after supper. Nothing in the way of 
food will be allowed between breakfast and 
dinner, or dinner and supper. 

“ After breakfast, you are to go immedi- 
ately to your staterooms, make up the beds, 
and put the rooms in perfect order. Then 
you can amuse yourselves as you please until 
nine o’clock, when Mr. Waters will give you 
lessons and hear recitations until twelve 
o’clock. These lessons will be regular, unless 
storm or tempest or sickness cause delay. 

“ From two until four o’clock in the after- 


A SHARP LESSON 


233 


noon you are to study, and can study together 
if you keep quiet. After dinner until two 
o’clock, and after four o’clock in the after- 
noon until bedtime, you will be free to amuse 
yourselves. There are books in yonder case 
you are at liberty to borrow, always remem- 
bering to replace them at night. When those 
are gone through, the mates have some stories 
in their chests I dare say you would enjoy. 
There are several games and puzzles in that 
wall closet that boys always like. The sailors 
will teach you some deck sports you will be 
sure to enjoy. 

“ Sunday mornings, all hands gather at ten 
o’clock on deck if pleasant, or in the cabin 
if cold or unpleasant; the Scriptures are read, 
prayers are repeated, and songs are sung. 
Every one on board is required to be present, 
sickness or tempest alone preventing attend- 
ance at this service. 

“ That is all. The rules are few and sim- 
ple, nothing hard being required. There is 


234 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

only one thing to add: these rules are to be 
obeyed! ” 

Then the captain went up the companion- 
way, and the boys began reading some of the 
titles of the books. But Tommy Joy felt the 
rising of a cloud. While the captain was 
talking, he stole one or two swift glances at 
Tommy Joyce, and the expression on Tom- 
my’s face troubled him. He did not look 
cross or contrary, but as if he was thinking: 

“ Go on, old fellow, make all the rules you 
choose, but I shall do exactly as I please about 
keeping them.” 

In a few moments Mr. Hemming, the sec- 
ond mate, came to the cabin, saying he was 
ready to show the boys how to make up their 
beds. The boys followed him, Tommy Joyce 
with footsteps that lagged. 

As the two staterooms were so near, the 
mate stood midway of each, giving careful 
instructions how to proceed with the berths. 

“ Another morning,” he said, “ before you 
leave the staterooms, remove all the clothes 


A SHARP LESSON 235 

from the beds, and put them over the chairs 
to air.” 

“ There won’t be time,” objected Tommy 
Joyce. 

“You’ll find time, young man!” rejoined 
the mate, sharply, and turning a swift, bright 
glance toward the reluctant boy. 

At each careful direction given, Tommy 
Joyce obeyed in the halting, unwilling way 
always irritating to an active, able man, and 
the mate gave more than one commanding, 
threatening look at the sulky boy. 

At length the beds were made, and the lads 
directed to take the pitchers from the sockets, 
and be shown where to get water. Then 
Tommy revolted openly. 

“ I’m not used to carrying water,” he said. 
“ My father didn’t mean I should do servants’ 
work, I know, and I’m not going to!” 

Tommy Joy shook and trembled at this 
show of independence, and wanted to motion 
Tommy not to dare answer in such a way. 

But Mr. Hemming intended to do no urg- 


236 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

in g, neither did he mean to lose patience at 
once. 

“ Your father is not master here,” he said, 
so evenly that Tommy Joy wondered at his 
mildness, although he felt the note of author- 
ity under it all. “ Pick up your pitcher and 
come along,” he added. 

At that the spoiled, ungoverned boy turned 
his face full toward the mate, and said, with 
slow insolence: 

“ I don’t have to mind you!” 

“ Oh, you don’t, eh? ” And on the instant 
out flew the mate’s strong hand, and a tre- 
mendous box on his ear, that seemed to slap 
the whole side of the boy’s face, rung along 
the passageway. 

“ You let me alone! ” roared Tommy, grab- 
bing at his ear, and turning on the mate like 
a young fury. “You let me alone! I’ll tell 
my father! ” 

“ Oh, you will, eh? Then tell him of that, 
too! ” And a second loud box or slap on the 
other ear sounded along Tommy’s face. The 



“‘I don’t have to mind you 






A SHARP LESSON 


237 


next instant the boy was hurled with violence 
into his berth, and as the howling lad drew 
up one leg that had met a keen bang as he 
flew on to the bed, the now thoroughly roused 
mate said, in a deep but sturdy voice: 

“ Perhaps you won’t think best to talk much 
about what your father intends you to do 
aboard this craft after this, and the next time 
you undertake to cheek an officer, I recom- 
mend you cover yourself with armor first. 
Now here you stay, and can think the matter 
over until eight bells, then, if you are ready 
to behave yourself, well and good, if not, you 
can starve till you are.” 

There was a lock on the stateroom door, 
and Mr. Hemming took out the key, put it 
in outside, and locked Tommy in. Then he 
went calmly on to show the other Tommy 
where to get water for bathing, but he re- 
marked, kindly: 

“ Never you fear, lad. Good boys get no 
knocks either here or anywhere else.” 

When Mr. Waters heard what had hap- 


238 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

pened, he told Tommy Joy to bring his school- 
books to the cabin, and let him see where he 
was in the various studies. But he said he 
would not begin any lessons that day, as he 
thought it best to start the boys together. 

It is not customary for the captain to find 
fault with the ship’s officers, unless for some 
grave offence, so Captain Warren did not re- 
prove Mr. Hemming when he learned what 
had taken place. He had said to Mr. Joyce, 
however, that he should not lay rough hands 
on his son, although he would be made to 
obey; now he thought it best for others to 
follow his rule. 

When he repeated the remark to Mr. Hem- 
ming, the mate replied: 

“ Ay, ay, sir. I’ll keep my hands off the 
lad another time if I can, but I can tell you, 
one good, short, sharp lesson is the best thing 
that young rooster could have had. I’m 
thinking a few others wouldn’t harm him.” 

“ That may be,” said the captain, “ but the 


A SHARP LESSON 


239 


next time he is unruly, send him to me. I 
will see that he is sufficiently punished.” 

Poor Tommy Joy was very unhappy. “ If 
this is the beginning,” he thought, “ what will 
the middle or the end of the voyage bring? ” 
He was to find out the truth of the mate’s 
remark, although he did not hear it. One 
short, sharp lesson was the best thing in the 
world for Tommy Joyce. 

But Tommy did not remain unhappy all 
day. We have seen that he knew considerable 
about the kind of men that sail the seas, and 
he knew that Tommy Joyce would not be 
released until eight bells, or four o’clock in 
the afternoon. What would he do then? At 
all events he would be treated fairly. 

Mr. Waters was surprised at the progress 
Tommy Joy had made when he looked over 
the school-books with him. Tommy liked 
Mr. Waters. He made him think of Mr. 
Sudbury, and he felt sure of getting on well 
with this genial, able man. 


240 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ I should think,” said Tommy, grinning 
shyly, “ you’d ’a’ liked to ’a’ been a teacher.” 

“ I intended to be,” said Mr. Waters, look- 
ing smilingly across the sea, “ but my health 
gave out on land, and, as I love the water like 
a veritable duck, I took to sailing.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


MAMMY LIBBY 

LEFT to himself, Tommy wandered over 
to the kitchen, peeped in, and saw Nat Lorrin, 
the tall, plump cook, busy washing dishes. 

“ Mornin’, sah,” said Nat, laughing and 
showing a splendid set of teeth. “ Come right 
int’ the cookin’ s’loon, somebody here like 
a-see you right well.”- 

Tommy stepped in and looked in such sur- 
prise at an object seated in the kitchen that 
Nat slapped his side, and broke into a loud, 
merry laugh. 

In a great wooden armchair sat an old col- 
ored woman, sleek and comfortable, her wool 
half-white, a bright bandanna, or red and yel- 
low cotton handkerchief, deftly knotted on 
her head, and a pipe in her mouth. 

241 


242 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


At sight of Tommy, she removed the pipe, 
nodded, smiled in friendly fashion, and half- 
sang, in a jolly, crooning voice: 

“ 1 Lorr’ bress de whole caboodle ! 

Hail Columby, Yankee doodle !’ 

“ Now whar you come fum, chile, an 5 how 
long yer gwine a-stay? ” 

“ Reckon I’ll stay long as the ship does,” 
Tommy answered, his grin very broad. 

Here was a great and unexpected pleasure, 
finding this nice-looking, soft-voiced old 
woman on board. 

“ Dat’s right, honey, jes’ you stay on de 
Sooky Sinclar long’s you can. An’ ef you 
has a mis’ry in yo’ toe, or yo’ stummick, or 
yo’ li’l backbone, jus’ you come to Mammy 
Libby, an’ she git you well in no time.” 

“ Where’s that other boy? ” asked Nat, who 
spoke more like “ white folks ” than his old 
mother. 

“ He’s in bed,” Tommy replied, not want- 
ing to say any more. 


MAMMY LIBBY 


243 


But he had no immediate chance to say any 
more, for Mammy Libby broke at once into a 
kind of sweet wail : 

“ In bed! Oh, cracky gooshy! Why didn’ 
de capting send fo’ me? He know, do dat 
Capting Warring, dat ole Mammy Libby, she 
know how to plaster up de sickest chicken dar 
nebber was. Wot’s de trubble wiv de po’ 
li’l limb? ” 

“ Oh, he isn’t sick,” Tommy answered, care- 
lessly; “he’ll be up pretty soon.” 

“Li’l Lazy-bones?” questioned mammy. 
Then rolling her eyes and glancing fearfully 
around, she whispered: 

“ ’Fraid dat won’t do ’board de Sooky Sin- 
clair/ Nobuddy get allowed be lazy here, 
’cept ” — mammy put on an air of importance 
— “ ’cept it am ole Mammy Libby. I’se get- 
tin’ ole, lammie, an’ ef I doan feel right pert 
now ’n’ den, nottin’ is said ef I lies abed, but 
fo’ a young pair ob legs like yourn to stick 
in bed till aften de forenoon mos’ gone — ” 


244 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Mammy shook her head, and, her eyes rolling, 
whispered again: 

“ You better be tellin’ dat udder clo’es-pin 
to be tumblin’ outen bed quick’s he can.” 

Tommy was greatly amused and also fas- 
cinated at mammy’s queer speech and rolling 
eyes. He only repeated: 

“ He’s going to get up pretty soon.” But 
Nat remarked: 

“ Reckon he spoke ruther smart to some 
one, didn’t he? ’Pears like I was hearin’ he 
did; looks like he could, too.” 

Mammy threw up her hands. “ Now de 
Lorr bress his li’l young soul! He didn’ go 
a-sassin’ de capting or one de ossifers, did he? 
But thar! He’s jes’ a po’ li’l land pick’ninny, 
ennyway, doan know de ways ob de sea, nor 
de men as sails it. Wisht I could go comfut 
de po’ mizz’ble li’l sinner! I declar’ to good- 
ness I’d like to mudder him a bit.” 

Such a pitying, motherly expression over- 
spread the face of the old colored woman that 


MAMMY LIBBY 


245 


Tommy found himself saying, almost without 
meaning to: 

“ I haven’t got any mother or father, either. 
It must be nice to have a mother.” 

Mammy’s voice was like music as she re- 
plied : 

“ Doan nebber say you hasn’t a farder, 
chile. De gre’t, good Farder in heb’n, he 
nebber tek his eye off’n a po’ young creeter 
dat hasn’ a farder nor a mudder on de yearth. 
Isn’t you nebber said, 1 Our Farder wich art 
in heb’n ’ ? ” 

“ Yes, my mother taught me that,” Tommy 
replied, a feeling of great comfort stealing 
over him at mammy’s words. 

“ Well, doan fergit to say dat pra’r eb’ry 
mornin’, an’ yet agen eb’ry night, nebber fer- 
git it, chile.” 

Mammy was in her element when preach- 
ing little sermons, and she went on to assure 
Tommy of his mother’s continued care and 
watchfulness over him, although he could not 
see her. 


246 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Mudders nebber fergit!” she said, sol- 
emnly, “ nebber fergit dere own borned chil- 
lerns.” 

Whether the ministers would have ap- 
proved of all she said or not, every word was 
a comfort to orphaned Tommy, and the ten- 
der names she called him were indeed like 
drops of honey to his own sweet nature. 

All at once Mr. Hemming, in passing the 
kitchen, saw Tommy inside, and sung out: 

“ Come, shipmate, wouldn’t you like to see 
a brood of Mother Cary’s chickens?” 

Out ran the boy, and, peering over the ves- 
sel’s side, was amused at seeing as many as 
twenty queer birds hovering over the water. 

“ They have long wings and web-feet, like 
a duck,” said Mr. Hemming, “ and can either 
fly or swim. Their real name is the stormy 
petrel, a kind of sea-fowl to be found in 
nearly all waters. We often see them far out 
at sea.” 

“ Are they good to eat? ” asked Tommy. 

Mr. Hemming laughed. “Not remark- 


MAMMY LIBBY 


247 


ably. I’m afraid you wouldn’t exactly enjoy 
this kind of chicken for food. They say that, 
should any one handle one with the feathers 
off, it would be impossible to rid the hands 
of the smell for weeks. I never tried handling 
one myself.” 

“ Guess we better let them alone,” grinned 
Tommy. 

Then Nat Lorrin appeared, a panful of 
crumbs in his hands. He tossed the crumbs 
overboard, and the flock of chickens skimmed 
the water, quickly catching up the crumbs. 

“ The Jacks gobble just as fast after they’re 
chickens as ever,” said Nat, with a chuckle, 
as he turned away. 

Tommy looked inquiringly at the mate. 

“ That is an old superstition with sailors,” 
Mr. Hemming explained. “A sailor, you 
know, is always ‘Jack,’ no matter what his 
true name, and there has been an old saying 
among seamen that when a sailor was buried 
at sea he turned into one of Mother Cary’s 
chickens. I do not think they are really fool- 


248 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

ish enough to believe such nonsense, still, 
whenever a^flock of them appears, I notice 
the sailors are very quick to feed them.” 

“ Sailors are all right,” remarked Tommy. 
“Don’t you think so, Mr. Hemming?” 

“ Best fellows in the world when it comes 
to kindness of heart, and when they behave 
themselves,” Mr. Hemming replied, “ and 
mostly our men behave like the true-hearted 
fellows they are.” 

After that, Tommy curled up on one of the 
padded seats of the cabin, and became ab- 
sorbed in a story” of the sea. 

At eight bells, Mr. Hemming unlocked the 
door of Tommy Joyce’s stateroom, and found 
the boy sleeping soundly. His soft, light hair 
floated off in thick waves from his white fore- 
head, and his face was flushed, as if he might 
have grieved himself to sleep. 

“ Poor lad,” whispered the mate, who had 
by no means a nard heart, “ if only he will 
learn to obey, and step round like that other 


MAMMY LIBBY 


249 


lad, he won’t have any more trouble. Cap- 
tain will have a good talk with the lad once 
he wakes up.” 

But Tommy did not wake up that night. 
Three times Mr. Hemming went to the little 
room, but, as the boy did not stir, he did not 
think it best to rouse him. 

The next morning the boys were called as 
before, twenty minutes before breakfast-time. 
Tommy Joyce, however, did not make his 
appearance. When Captain Warren went 
himself to his stateroom, he found Tommy 
still in bed, one of his handkerchiefs, which 
had been dipped in water, bound about his 
head. 

It was plain to see that the boy felt ill, and 
that his head was aching. When he refused 
all food, the captain told him he had better 
get up, wash his face and hands, then have 
some toast and warm milk. 

“ I will send the stewardess to you,” he 
added, kindly, “ and after using the cooling 
water and eating some simple food, I think 


250 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

you will feel better. Get up if you can after 
your breakfast, for Mr. Waters wants very 
much to start you two boys together on your 
lessons to-day.” 

“ I’ll get up if I can,” said Tommy, speak- 
ing quite like a young gentleman. 

The captain’s manner was so welcome to 
the unhappy boy that Tommy was truly grate- 
ful for it. He got up, unbound his head, 
and used plenty of cold water, which he found 
refreshed him, but the boy was unprepared 
for the person who brought his food. He did 
not notice particularly when Captain Warren 
said the “ stewardess,” and so was surprised 
at seeing a tall, majestic-looking old colored 
woman come into the stateroom, tray in hand, 
and kindness written all over her dark face. 

“ Mornin’, honey,” she said, bowing and 
smiling. “ Here comes Mammy Libby wi’ 
yo’ brefgus. Jus’ you wait w’ile I pokes up 
de pillers an’ gets you right comferable. Den 
see how pert yo’ll feel aften you gets sump- 
sin’ inside yo’ li’l pudd’n-bag.” 


MAMMY LIBBY 


251 


Tommy gave a shake of laughter, but 
mammy set the tray on the chair, and was 
already beating up the pillows, then with sur- 
prising strength she boosted him into a sit- 
ting posture, and put the tray before him. 

“ Dar now!” she exclaimed, in her soft 
notes, “ eat away w’ile de t’ings am all hot 
an’ tasteful, an’ mammy’ll fotch yo’ water jus’ 
fo’ to-day.” 

“ No,” said Tommy, “ you’re awfully good, 
but I’ll get the water after I’m dressed. I 
made up my mind I would yesterday, and I’d 
better. Thank you all the same.” 

Mammy closed the stateroom door and sat 
down. The breakfast, neatly served and per- 
fectly prepared, was tasting delightfully to 
Tommy, who, with the first mouthful, discov- 
ered that he was extremely hungry. 

“ Now, my chile, ole Mammy Libby want 
a-tell you sumpsin’,” began the old mother, 
who was delighted at seeing an opportunity 
to preach one of her short, sweet sermons: 
“ A li’l bird was tellin’ me dat a dear young 


2^2 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

pick’ninny were gettin’ inten trubble, ’cause 
he speak too pert-like to one ob de mates. 
Was you usen to speak dat a-way at home, 
honey? ” 

“ Oh, I used to kick up like everything at 
home,” was Tommy’s honest reply. It seemed 
as if he could tell anything to this crooning 
old mother. “ I used to give it to the ser- 
vants like the mischief, and make an awful 
fuss if things didn’t just suit me.” 

“ But dat were in yo’ farder’s house.” 

“ Yes, that was in my father’s house.” 

“Well, now, let me tell you, lambkin, yo’ 
farder’s house am one place, an’ de gre’t world 
am anudder place. In yo’ farder’s house, 
you’s de darlin’ boy, an’ de pet chicken, an’ 
de belub-bed son. But when you goes out 
inten de world, you’s no darlin’ boy ob de 
worl’s; de world don’t mek no pet chicken 
ob you, de world don’t know anysing ’bout 
belub-bed sons. You use de world right, an’ 
it use you right; you sass de world, an’ de 
world it up an’ hit you.” 


MAMMY LIBBY 


253 


“That’s so!” said Tommy, feeling that 
recent events had already proved the truth of 
mammy’s words. 

“ Now, jus’ one udder remark,” continued 
mammy, beaming on the listening boy, and 
holding up a pointed forefinger to impress 
the “ udder remark: ” 

“ Ef I were a bright li’l qual’ty man, dat 
were a-travellin’ ’board de Sooky Sincla’r, an’ 
with right good men to man her, an’ could 
eder sass de men an’ keep a-gettin’ inten all 
sorts o’ picklin’ or could be a right firs’-class 
young goslin’ dat eb’rybody would like, an’ 
so hev de beauty-best time dat ebber was, 
I’d be smart nufl an’ sens’ble nufif to be de 
perlitest li’l ole gen’l’man aboard de ocean! 
Yassir, I jus’ done would!” 

A series of nods and a solemn rolling of the 
eyes added to the strength of mammy’s speech, 
and, after a moment of quiet, Tommy made 
a reply which set mammy cackling with sat- 
isfaction. 

“ This nice toast is going into my mouth,” 


254 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

he said, with a boyish shrug, “ and your nice 
words are walking into my head, and I’m not 
all a fool, so I’m not going to fight any one 
on this vessel any more.” 

“Now, hear dat ! ” exclaimed mammy, 
glancing around, as if addressing the universe. 
“Jus’ you stick to dat yere res’lution, an’ 
whar’s de happier young soul dan dis one? ” 

Then, as she took the tray with its empty 
dishes, she added: 

“ Capting did’n’ say anysing ’bout my 
addin’ a drapped egg to de toast, but, as 
drapped eggs goes mostly with toast, I pre- 
judged it better be added.” 

“ It went down pretty easy,” said Tommy. 
“ And say, I’m awfully glad you’re aboard. 
I reckon once in awhile I’d better run to you 
for advice.” 

“Yo’ll be shore ob gettin’ it, honey, shore 
ob gettin’ it,” and, with a satisfied nod, mam- 
my’s high turban disappeared around the 
doorway. 

Tommy got up, made his bed with care, 


MAMMY LIBBY 


2 55 


and started out to find Mr. Hemming. That 
gentleman was looking off at sea through 
large glasses called “ binoculars,” but turned 
quickly as he heard some one say respect- 
fully: 

“ If you please, sir, I’d like to see where 
I can get water.” 

“ Oh, certainly, come this way.” 

It may seem a little strange, but neither 
Mr. Hemming nor Tommy ever spoke one 
to the other about the affair of the previous 
day. Perhaps it was better so. 

As for Tommy Joy, when he saw Tommy 
Joyce enter the cabin, he exclaimed, joyfully: 

“ Oh, jolly, I’m so glad you’ve come! We’ll 
get on like everything with our lessons soon 
as we once begin.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


AS THEY SAILED 

And get on they did. Yet Tommy Joyce, 
with all his highly-paid-for schooling, was 
not as far ahead as Tommy Joy, with his 
quick mind and eagerness to learn. 

When Mr. Waters found the difference in 
what they had been over, he asked Tommy 
Joy if he was willing to go back consider- 
ably, in order that they might take the same 
lessons. 

But before the boy could reply, up rose the 
finer part of Tommy Joyce’s nature, and he 
looked an eager and noble boy as he ex- 
claimed : 

“No! That wouldn’t be fair. Let him 
go ahead, and me try to catch up. I reckon 
I could.” 


256 


AS THEY SAILED 


257 


“ Yes, I think you could,” said Mr. Waters. 
“ It will take considerable extra study, but, 
if you determine to, you doubtless could do 
it some time before the voyage is over.” 

“ I’ll do it,” said Tommy, feeling for the 
first time what a grand thing it was to have 
ambition in a right direction, and say, “ I 
will! ” 

The boy showed what was in him, as he 
kept at study while Tommy Joy was curled 
up in a corner of the cabin, a story-book in 
hand. Of course, he did not study all the 
time. There were games and puzzles he en- 
joyed immensely, and at which he was some- 
what quicker than Tommy Joy. Then there 
were sports on deck. 

Meantime, the lads were growing very 
fond of each other. Wherever one was, the 
other was sure to be. Neither had enjoyed 
a boy companionship before. Tommy Joyce, 
because he couldn’t lord it over other boys 
of his own age. Tommy Joy, because no other 
waif appeared on Merchant’s Wharf, and he 


258 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

had all he could do to earn pennies for food 
and lodging. The boys never would have 
been friends for any length of time had they 
remained on land. Sailing the seas in com- 
pany, each found out what a fine, brave young 
boy the other was. 

One afternoon, when Tommy Joyce was 
scratching away at an example in arithmetic, 
the other Tommy said, quietly: 

“ You’re a real nice boy, Tommy; wouldn’t 
many keep at it the way you do.” 

Tommy began to giggle. “ Guess you 
wouldn’t ’a’ thought I was very nice if you’d 
seen me at home.” 

“ What made you act that way? ” asked 
the other Tommy, innocently, and looking 
puzzled at the idea of such actions as he had 
heard something of. 

“ Just knew I could,” was the answer. 
“You see” — Tommy looked a bit sheepish 
— “I had a notion I could make the whole 
world stand round. Mr. Hemming took that 
out of me, and ’twas a good job, too.” 


AS THEY SAILED 


259 

Tommy Joy laughed out loud, then grew 
sober: 

“ I was 'afraid he might kill you, Tommy. 
It scared me awfully when you said what you 
did.” 

“ Served me right if he had,” said Tommy, 
with surprising candor, “ but I tell you what, 
’twas Mammy Libby told me the biggest truth 
about things. Captain Warren talked first- 
class to me next morning, but mammy told 
how folks out in the world would use me if 
I kept up my gimcracks, and thinking I was 
my mother’s little sugar-plum baby.” 

Both boys laughed, and Tommy Joyce 
went back to his lesson. Several times the 
other Tommy had helped him, and was al- 
ways more than glad to, and Tommy was 
“ catching up ” bravely. But one day the 
lesson plagued him, and in a fit of the old 
temper he threw his algebra across the cabin. 
The book came down loose jointed, almost 
a wreck. 

Mr. Waters was in the dining-saloon, and 


260 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


came forward asking what that noise meant. 
At sight of the book, he told Tommy to go 
to the quarter-deck, the captain’s particular 
walk, show him the school-book, and tell how 
it came in that condition. 

Tommy did not stir. 

“ I suppose you heard me,” said Mr. 
Waters, sternly. 

Still Tommy did not move, and what might 
have happened there is no knowing had it 
not been that Tommy Joy, frightened and 
nervous at the looks of things, said, entreat- 
ingly: 

“Tommy, please go!” 

At that, up got the boy, went to the quarter- 
deck, and told the story truthfully, but in 
a surly tone. 

“ I am very sorry for this,” the captain 
said, “ especially as you have done so well of 
late, but you will go to your stateroom, and 
not leave it again to-night.” 

Off stalked Tommy without a word. He 
was full of anger, but he knew that, no matter 


AS THEY SAILED 


261 


how stubbornly he might rebel, it would only 
be all the harder for him in the end. 

Yet a great disappointment was involved in 
not having his play-hour as usual that after- 
noon. A favorite game with the two boys and 
the sailors was that of “ quoits,” pitching iron 
rings into a tub set at the far end of the deck. 
And Mammy Libby had made a walnut turn- 
over in the morning, which was to be given 
to whoever threw the rings with the most 
dexterity the greatest number of times. 

The game was to be played the hour before 
supper. If either boy won the turnover, he 
was to have it with his breakfast the next 
morning. Now the game was lost to Tommy 
Joyce, who was one of the best pitchers on 
board. The turnover also was large enough 
to stand sharing, and Tommy had laughingly 
told Tommy Joy he was fairly sure of get- 
ting half of it. 

But not a sound was heard from the ban- 
ished lad that night. A bowl of bread and 
milk was carried to him, which was a great 


262 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


favor had he but known it, then he was left 
to himself for the night. 

The next morning when he asked Tommy 
Joy how the game went, and who won, Tom- 
my’s face grew sober: 

“ Didn’t have any game,” he replied. 
“ Soon as the sailors found you wasn’t on 
deck, Sam Slicer asked: 

“ ‘ Has captain been chopping his head off 
with some of his hard-and-fast, cast-iron 
rules? ’ 

“ Mr. Waters heard him, and ordered him 
off to the wheel. It wasn’t his watch, and he 
swore. Then he was ordered to watch double 
time. He muttered and shuffled off to the 
wheel-house, looking black as a thunder- 
cloud.” 

Tommy Joyce looked downcast and un- 
happy. 

“ I spoiled the whole crew’s fun, and got 
a man into trouble with my blasted temper,” 
he said, ruefully. Suddenly he added, stoutly: 

“ I’ll tell you what it is, Tommy Joy, I’m 


AS THEY SAILED 263 

going to kill that old temper of mine! I 
will, if I choke myself doing it!” 

“ Oh, you will,” encouraged the other boy; 
“ and say, I ought not to tell it, p’r’aps, but I 
heard Mr. Waters say you had the makings 
of a splendid young fellow in you, and he 
thought you were going to be one, too.” 

“Did he?” whispered Tommy, brighten- 
ing, “ I’m glad you told me.” He thought 
a moment, then asked : 

“ Didn’t you ever get mad and throw 
things, or didn't you ever say hateful things 
when you got riled?” 

Tommy Joy looked up in simple surprise. 

“ I didn’t have things to throw,” he said, 
“ and I never said hateful things because Mr. 
Frankfort and Captain Swart were all the 
folks I had near by, and they were the kind- 
est people in the world. They used to call 
me the ‘ wharf-bird.’ ” 

“ You was a great deal happier than I 
was,” said Tommy Joyce. “You see, I had 
things too slick. I’m better off now.” 


264 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Don’t you ever wish you was back at your 
nice home. Tommy? ” 

“No, honest, I don’t. I like the ship, the 
sailing and the sailors, and now I’m really 
at it, I like studying the way we do.” Tommy 
lowered his voice : “ I get mad as hops, but 
I know a fellow ought to mind, and now that 
I’ve got to, I’m going to. Wise, ain’t I?” 

Sunday morning, the captain told the boys 
they were to have a treat at the morning serv- 
ice, and, sure enough, after the Bible lesson 
and prayers, Nat Lorrin produced a banjo, 
and, after strumming a few notes with some 
skill, mammy and he broke into a negro mel- 
ody so full of power and sweetness that no 
one on deck moved a muscle or took their eyes 
of! the mother and son while the song con- 
tinued. 

Their voices were a surprise. Nat, tall, 
muscular and vigorous, sang a sweet, musical 
tenor, while mammy, old and flute-voiced in 
talking, rolled out a deep, rich contralto that 


AS THEY SAILED 265 

Sam Slicer said she could make sound like 
the crack of doom. 

After that, one of the greatest delights of 
the voyage for the boys was hearing Nat and 
mammy sing. 

“ It takes the Old Scratch out of me right 
away,” said Tommy Joyce, who certainly was 
to be praised for honesty of speech in those 
days, if never before. 

Ah, but mammy could cook! Therein lay 
one great secret of her value to the captain 
and his officers. And then she was in very 
truth no mean nurse in case of sickness aboard. 

Shipmasters live well, and usually have 
many luxuries stored away in the ship’s pan- 
tries. Nat Lorrin could set a neat table, cook 
for the men, make excellent bread, and cook 
such vegetables as they could carry. But 
mammy’s black bean soup, with its floating 
slices of lemon, spices, delectable seasoning, 
and long stewing, her egg muffins like yel- 
low sponge, her pastry, fruit pies, and cherub 
cake, how describe them! The captain said 


266 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

truly that the boys would have some luxuries 
in the ship’s saloon. 

“ Thought I’d had goodies at daddy’s,” re- 
marked Tommy Joyce one day, “ but mammy 
cuts out any land cook we ever had.” And 
Tommy Joy quite agreed that mammy could 
do wonders, and could even “ cut out ” the 
college men. 

So they sailed and they sailed, studied, re- 
cited, read stories, played games, and wrin- 
kled their brows over puzzles that puzzled. 

The voyage was pretty well over before 
Tommy Joyce caught up with Tommy Joy 
in all their studies. He was farther behind in 
some things than at first appeared. But the 
boy did manfully, and a week before port 
was made the lads were studying the same 
lessons throughout. 

One day a storm arose, which became a 
fearful tempest as night came on. The wind 
howled and screamed through the rigging, 
and the boys, who had been ordered to remain 
in their staterooms, or in one if they preferred 



“THE OLD BLACK WOMAN ROLLED HER EYES AND CLASPED 

if 


HER HANDS 




AS THEY SAILED 


267 


being together, could scarcely keep either to 
a berth or a chair. They were in Tommy 
Joyce’s room when Mammy Libby appeared. 

How mammy ever got across the slanting 
and mounting deck was a mystery, but it ap- 
peared she had, 

“ Chillerns,” she said, her voice deeper 
than usual, “ chillerns, is you ’fraid? ” 

“ Not a great deal,” said Tommy Joy, who 
really minded the storm less than the other 
Tommy. “ Are you, mammy? ” 

The old black woman rolled her eyes and 
clasped her hands: 

“ I hope I isn’t afeered ob de wrath of de 
Lorrd Gord, nor shakes at his angerness.” 

u What makes you think the Lord is an- 
gry? ” asked Tommy Joyce, who suspected 
that mammy was scared herself, but did not 
want them to know it. 

“ Listen to de drefful glory ob his terr’ble 
voice,” cried mammy. “ De sails is all furled, 
an’ I’se hear de capting order ’em to tek de 
mizzen off her. De bo’s’n’s voice am hoarse 


268 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


wi’ hollerin’, an’ I heerd ’em haulin’ ob de 
jibs an’ stowin’ ob de mainsail. I ’spected 
dar’d be trubble soon as I seen ’em a-goose- 
wingin’ ob de sails, an’ heerd de mate shoutin’ 
out fum de fo’k’sle dat ’twor gettin’ time to 
undress de ship.” 

“ You know most as much as the sailors, 
don’t you?” asked Tommy Joy. 

“ I’se sailed de seas fo’ thirty year, honey, 
thirty year! An’ I’se allers weddered de gales 
till now, bress de Lorrd! An’ de good Lorr’ 
willin’, I’ll wedder dis, too. Lorr’ hev 
mercy! ” she exclaimed, as a great wave struck 
the vessel, and sent her reeling against the 
wall. 

As mammy righted herself, then sat down 
flat on the floor, she said, bracing herself with 
a show of dignity: 

“ It a gre’t comfut to find you two pick’- 
ninnies isn’t scairt een-a-most outen yo*’ 
senses! ” 


CHAPTER XXL 


IN PORT 

The storm had spent itself when morning 
dawned. Mammy Libby, with the help of 
the bo’s’n, reached the steward’s quarters. 
The boys were allowed to put on oilskins, 
rubber boots, and sou’westers, and crawl, as- 
sisted each by a sailor, to leeward. This was 
the part of the vessel most protected from 
the wind. 

Tommy Joyce wished he might be given 
leave to cross the deck by himself. Tommy 
Joy was wiser. And the first boy was not half 
across to leeside before wondering that he 
could have been such a know-nothing as to 
have supposed he could have gone a dozen 
steps alone without rolling into the water. 

The sea was still a seething, boiling mass, 

269 


270 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

and sailors as well as boys were covered with 
salt spray almost immediately upon going 
outside. The wind was like an evil spirit, 
twisting and tossing the foam that crested the 
waves, while everything that could be easily 
moved was fastened tightly to its place. 

Yet it was great fun to the boys, crouching 
close under shelter of the lee, to let bursting 
waves send sheets of water all over them. 
How the sailors could tip and balance to the 
motion of the vessel was more than they could 
understand. 

Mr. Waters, thinking the boys might not 
have another so good a chance to see the ocean 
in angry mood, let them skip studies and 
recitations for the day, feeling that much 
might be learned as well as enjoyed from 
watching the effects of the storm. 

Numberless fishes were whisked on deck, 
then slid off again. One enormous fellow 
came flouncing and fluttering close to them, 
and both boys screamed at sight of the strug- 
gling giant. It flopped itself close to the 





“HELD ON TO AN IRON BRACE FOR DEAR LIFE 





IN PORT 271 

vessel’s side, where a big wave washed it back 
to its home. 

“ Look at the way we’d get bounced over- 
board if we took to promenading by our- 
selves yet awhile,” said Tommy Joyce, who 
held on to an iron brace for dear life, although 
the wind was not dangerous where the boys 
sat on a short wooden bench. 

With every hour the wind went down. The 
boYn, the officer who gives orders about the 
rigging* hoisting sails, casting anchors, and 
such duties, began giving directions in a loud 
voice, to each of which a sailor returned the 
expected, “ Ay, ay, sir!” 

During the afternoon, Mr. Hemming tied 
a stout rope around the waist of each Tommy- 
boy, and, fastening the ends securely to a coil 
of cable, let them rove the deck at pleasure. 

Off started Tommy Joyce, and down he 
went, taken off his feet on the slippery deck 
before half-way over to the sailors’ bunks, 
where he wanted to show what a sturdy Jack 
tar he was getting to be. Tommy Joy went 


272 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

more slowly, but was swept off his unsteady 
little pins, and rolled swiftly against a bulk- 
head, which stopped him. 

Shouts of laughter rang along the deck as 
the two green young sailors tried to get on 
their “ sea legs.” But they tried in vain, and 
both were glad at last to creep on their hands 
and knees over to the sailors’ quarters, where 
Sam Slicer, who could be jolly enough at 
times, seized each lad by the hand on either 
side of him, and went scudding across the 
deck in his enormous rubber sea-boots, drag- 
ging the youngsters, screaming with laughter 
as they continually lost footing and went 
slipping and sliding along, obliged to keep 
up with the lusty Sam. 

They slept like little pigs that night, and 
were only sorry when the next morning they 
saw bright sunlight, and the deck swept clear 
of traces of the storm. Sailors were “ holy- 
stoning ” the decks, or rubbing the boards 
with the holystone, which removes dirt and 
stains as no soap, however strong, will do. 


IN PORT 


273 


Two or three times during the voyage the 
loud cry had sounded from high up in the 
rigging, “Ship ahoy!” as a sailor sighted 
another vessel far off across the water. Then 
the captain would have the boys go to the 
quarter-deck, and look through the ship’s 
strong glasses, when the dim speck they had 
just been able to make out in the distance 
would show itself a brave ship which they 
might meet. 

They “ spoke ” two vessels, which means 
the captains shouted to each other when 
within hailing distance, but neither were 
bound for North American shores. 

Inside the companionway, held in strong 
brass brackets, was a telescope, and neither 
boy soon forgot the surprise and delight of 
the first moonlight night when Captain War- 
ren called them to gaze at the sky through the 
wonderful instrument. 

They started at the first look, for moon and 
stars were directly before them, clear, vivid, 
and startlingly near. They took many a look 


274 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

through the telescope at the heavenly bodies 
after that, and took great pleasure in learn- 
ing the names of many of the stars, as the 
captain taught them, and also pointed out 
their courses. 

There came one morning when at daybreak 
the lads were awakened by loud cries, the 
stamping of feet, and a great running to and 
fro. 

Out of bed sprang the boys just as a bang- 
ing came at their doors, and a sailor cried: 
“ Land ho!” 

The sound was a cheery one, much as the 
voyage had been enjoyed, and in a few mo- 
ments the two Tommys were on the quarter- 
deck, where the indulgent captain let each 
take a long look through the ship’s glasses, 
when lo, what had appeared a mere line of 
mist on the edge of the horizon, now looked 
like a far-away land. 

Yet progress in a sailing vessel is slow, and 


IN PORT 275 

Captain Warren said they were not likely to 
make the dock before next morning. 

And sure enough, it was midway to noon 
the next day before the Susie Sinclair was 
made fast in port, and in the Bay of Cadiz, 
which is described as “ a deep inlet of the 
Atlantic.” 

They could not land for several hours yet. 
The harbor police must be shown papers, 
records must be made, and the short day was 
so fast drawing to a close, the captain thought 
that it would be much more cheerful to go 
on land in the sunlight. He had said that 
the fall was the pleasantest season during 
which to visit Spain. It was now November; 
the nights were chilly, but the mornings usu- 
ally bright. 

Both officers and crew were far too busy 
to pay much attention to the boys, but, perched 
together on a pile of bales, there was plenty 
to be seen at the strange port, and they had 
great sport in watching affairs, making re- 
marks, and passing boyish jests. 


276 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Toward dusk Captain Warren stopped be- 
fore them, and said that after supper he 
would like to say a few words to them in 
the cabin. 

Nat Lorrin, Mammy Libby, and some of 
the sailors were going to stick to their bunks, 
taking short trips ashore as they chose. 

“ What do you suppose cappie wants to tell 
us? ” asked Tommy Joyce, carelessly, as they 
waited for the supper gong to sound. 

“ I expect he’ll tell where you are to stay 
on land,” replied the other Tommy. 

“And you?” 

“ I may stay on land part of the time, too,” 
Tommy Joy answered, remembering the 
promises Mr. Frankfort had set before him. 

“You’ll just stay on land every minute I 
do!” cried Tommy Joyce, hotly, and with a 
show of the old temper. “ My father said, 
if I came on this voyage, you should be com- 
pany for me all the way through! He did, 
honest. All is, if you stay on the ship any 
of the time^ I shall!” 


IN PORT 2 77 

“ Don’t tell what your father said, though,” 
warned the other boy. 

“No, I won’t, but if they separate us, I 
won’t enjoy a minute. Say, I don’t ever want 
to get along without you again, Tommy Joy. 
You — you keep me pitched.” 

He meant balanced, but the boy he spoke 
to understood, and as they both chuckled, the 
gong sounded. 

Yes, Captain Warren told them in a cheery 
way that they were both to go ashore in the 
morning with Mr. Waters, where they would 
have a room at a hotel, as both he and Mr. 
Waters would also. “You will be directly 
under the care of Mr. Waters while in Ca- 
diz,” he added, “ as the unlading and lading 
of the ship, together with other business mat- 
ters, will take much of my time, but, as some 
study will be required, and there will be con- 
siderable sightseeing. Mr. Waters will be 
guide as well as teacher.” 

So two very contented, hopeful youngsters 
“ turned in ” at bedtime, and slept until the 


278 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

boVn’s loud rap awoke them in the sunshiny 
dawn. 

Oh, what a funny place Cadiz looked as the 
little party made their way to the hotel. Yet 
it was cheerful, too, with houses that were 
white, all white on every side. 

“ Are the houses painted, or what? ” asked 
Tommy Joyce. 

“No,” Mr. Waters replied, “they are 
whitewashed. It is a custom with many of 
the Spanish people merely to whitewash the 
outside of their houses, but you see the streets 
are paved quite as well as in most other 
cities. 

“ Cadiz,” he went on, “ is really the chief 
centre of Spanish-American trade. There are 
four large forts, also a fine naval station, 
which we saw as we sailed up the bay.” 

The boys said they noticed the forts, and 
wondered what they were. 

At the hotel Tommy Joy did not express 
the wonder and almost the confusion he felt 
on entering the beautiful room in which the 


IN PORT 


279 


boys’ trunk was already placed. He would 
have known nothing at all about such furnish- 
ings but for his visits at the college. He was 
glad now not to be entirely ignorant of such 
surroundings. 

But here were two small bedsteads, all 
white and gilt, two bureaus, a square mirror 
on each, two washstands or commodes, and 
two willow rockers. Between the commodes 
was a tall, tastefully painted screen, which 
almost made separate rooms at that end of the 
apartment. A finely woven Chinese matting 
was on the floor, and soft rugs made it easy 
to step about in feet merely socked or bare. 
The boy reflected on: 

To think that he , Tommy Joy, wharf-bird 
and errand boy, was to share this rich-looking 
place! 

“ Quite a respectable room, isn’t it? ” re- 
marked Tommy Joyce, glancing at the silk 
table-cover, the curiously wrought curtains, 
and the pictures on the wall. Then he showed 
his superior intelligence in some directions, 


280 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

for, going closer to one of the pictures, he 
exclaimed : 

“ Oh, say, Tommy, this is a Murillo. My 
mother has a Murillo in our drawing-rooms. 
Yes, and I remember she told me he was a 
very famous painter and a native of Seville, 
another city of Spain. They cost like sixty, 
and you don’t often catch them outside of the 
cathedrals now.” 

Tommy Joy was glad the other boy had 
explained what a “ Murillo ” was. He had 
no more knowledge of art or artists than any 
other wharf waif was likely to have. But he 
felt a sudden glow of pride and joy as he 
thought within himself: 

“ But it may be that I shall know all about 
these high-up things if I keep on studying, 
and keep up knowing Tommy Joyce.” 

The boy had learned a good many useful 
and refining things from his Tommy-friend 
already, — nice habits at the table, the care 
of his hands, keeping his clothes with a cer- 
tain neatness, little matters that the poorer 


IN PORT 


281 

boy was quick to see and swift in imitating, 
and liked to imitate, things that he felt must 
go toward making up a real young gentleman. 

In the evening Mr. Waters took the boys 
out for a walk in the streets, which were bril- 
liantly lighted. 

“ I didn’t expect to see such good streets 
and bright lights and all that,” said Tommy 
Joyce. “ My father has a friend, Colonel 
Larrington, who came to Spain once, and I 
heard him say it was an awfully queer place.” 

“ It might strike an American that way,” 
Mr. Waters replied, “ for whitewashed houses 
are very different from stone fronts, and the 
manners and customs of the people are new 
and strange. Yet, centuries ago, not long 
after Columbus discovered America, Cadiz 
was the great centre or headquarters of nearly 
all the commerce of the world. Or, in other 
words, it was the great trading-mart where 
bargains or exchanges were made of the most 
important of the world’s supplies. 

“ We shall have a good many walks and 


282 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

talks while ashore, for, although our lessons 
are not to be neglected, there yet will be time 
to learn a great deal by means of the sights 
to be seen. Using one’s eyes often teaches 
more than books can do. Remember that” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


IN A STRANGE LAND 

THERE were trips many, sights many, les- 
sons many, and pleasures many, while in the 
sunny land of Spain. 

It interested the boys to see how the olives 
grew on rather small trees or shrubs. And, 
o-oh! how bitter they were in their natural 
state, before being put into salt water, and 
bottled for transportation to various Euro- 
pean or American shores. 

Oranges and lemons were gathered all 
ready for the markets or the ships, but Tommy 
Joyce turned up his nose at the oranges, as 
he said: 

“ Pooh ! They’re not half as large or as fine 
as our own Floridas!” 

“Yes, but the American market is a great 

283 


284 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

gobbler,” Mr. Waters replied, “ that swal- 
lows up all the fruit it can easily get.” 

The Susie Sinclair was to take back a cargo 
of fruits: oranges, lemons, olives, hundreds 
of boxes of raisins, a great quantity of rich 
olive-oil, and a large supply of Spanish wines. 

It amused the young travellers to see how 
different grades of raisins were prepared from 
the abundant vineyards. Aboard ship, Nat 
Lorrin and the sailors always spoke of raisins 
as “ plums.” Many the spray of plump, rich 
“ plums ” the boys had enjoyed at the cap- 
tain’s table, for he considered them much less 
harmful than confectionery or rich cake. 

Now the lads found that great clusters of 
raisin grapes were half-broken from the vine 
when ripe, but not entirely severed, then were 
left hanging in the sun to dry pretty thor- 
oughly before being packed and pressed in 
the boxes. The choicest kinds are dried in 
this way, and become our beautiful “ layer 
raisins.” 

Others are dried on roofs or boards raised 


IN A STRANGE LAND 


285 


from the ground, and are a less expensive 
grade; then there are still more common 
grapes, which, after being dried, have sugar 
sprinkled freely over them, and are packed 
in small kegs. These are called “ cask rai- 
sins,” and are the cheapest of all. Captain 
Warren did not carry them. 

Mr. Waters, in going about with the lads, 
was often surprised at the intelligence they 
displayed. The longer they stayed, the more 
accustomed they all became to Spanish cus- 
toms and habits, both in the streets and to 
some extent in the homes. 

One thing was noticeable. The children 
of the Spaniards were sometimes noisy and 
ungovernable. Fits of wilfulness and scream- 
ing were often seen in the streets. Singularly 
enough, these actions particularly disgusted 
Tommy Joyce. One day, after watching a 
boy who was wholly unruly, he exclaimed: 

“ I’d like to have the training of that kid 
for about five minutes. Wouldn’t I trounce 
him?” 


286 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ You wouldn’t be allowed,” Mr. Waters 
replied. “ It is said that the children of 
Spanish parents are almost never punished. 
If they cannot be coaxed or bribed into good 
behavior, they are simply let alone.” 

The boys were to have speedy proof of the 
truth of this. The next morning, in company 
with Mr. Waters, they visited the two great 
cathedrals or churches, saw the fine architec- 
ture, wide altars, and costly paintings. They 
returned late for dinner, and, as Mr. Waters 
was in haste to go to the dock, the boys went 
by themselves to the hotel dining-room. 

The older people had dined and gone, but 
several children were having their dinners. 
Presently two of the children wanted some- 
thing that was not to be had. They began 
to kick and scream, and at first the waiters 
tried to quiet them. But the loud cries only 
increased, and at length they were let alone. 
No one came to find out what was the matter, 
as it was so common a thing to hear such 
screams, and the two visiting lads were glad 


IN A STRANGE LAND 287 

to finish their dinners and hurry from the 
table. 

As they reached the top of the stairs on 
the way to their room, Tommy Joyce stopped 
short. 

“Jingo!” he began, “I believe that’s the 
very way I used to carry on when I couldn’t 
have just what I wanted.” 

“ Did you used to roar that way? ” asked 
Tommy Joy. 

“ Yes, I did lots of times. My father tried 
to stop it at the last, but I’d screech all the 
same when he wasn’t round. I used to act 
like a pirate with the servants. But I couldn’t 
come my tricks over our old Scotch coach- 
man. I had a scrap with him in the street one 
day, and he’d have dropped me overboard, 
handed me right down from the coachy’s seat 
into the street if I hadn’t promised to behave. 
I wanted to hold the whip, and kept torment- 
ing the horses with it, but he got it away from 
me. I came the gentleman, and agreed not 
to touch the horses again if he’d let me have 


288 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

it, and he did. After that everything was 
peaceful as the mill-pond, and I sat like a 
post on the box, holding the whip.” 

Tommy Joy grew thoughtful. “Was that 
ever so long ago, up by the library? ” he asked. 

“ Yes.” 

“ Then I believe I saw you. I’d been trot- 
ting way up town, and saw a boy sitting up 
straight beside a coachman, holding a great 
high whip, and I thought how nice he must 
feel.” 

“ Must ’a’ been me. Why didn’t you sing 
out? ” 

Both laughed, but a swift memory showed 
Tommy Joy himself as he was that day. To 
his boyish mind it seemed very long ago. 

“ And now,” he thought, “ here I am living 
with that very boy, that seemed as high up 
above me as the clouds! If anybody’d told 
me then that I’d be sleeping in the same room 
with him in about a year and a half, I wonder 
what I’d said! ” 

But Tommy kept these thoughts to himself. 


IN A STRANGE LAND 


289 


Not long after this something happened 
which showed the great change which must 
have come over Tommy Joyce since running 
away from his father’s house. 

One thing strictly forbidden was for either 
boy to go away from the hotel unless either 
Captain Warren or Mr. Waters was with 
him. Their lessons were going on with con- 
siderable regularity, and each pleasant day 
Mr. Waters went with them on some enjoy- 
able outing unless the captain took them out 
for some special treat. 

At the same hotel with the boys was another 
American lad, about eighteen years old, who 
often joined the two Tommys in the large 
parlor, or perhaps in the corridors, and ap- 
peared to enjoy chatting with them. 

One day he went into an interesting and 
vivid account of a bull-fight, a very cruel 
kind of amusement of which the Spaniards 
are very fond. The boy, Willis Parker by 
name, assured the younger lads that they had 


290 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

not seen anything to speak of until they had 
witnessed a bull-fight. 

He described the splendid animal that came 
rushing and stamping into the arena, the 
princely appearing matador who stood flaunt- 
ing a red cloth to goad the powerful creature 
into a perfect fury. Then the picador, who, 
showily dressed and mounted on a superb and 
bespangled horse, dashed toward the bull, 
and with a long spear wounded the angry 
beast just in time to turn his attention from 
the matador, who still waved the crimson 
cloth. 

He spoke of the excited yells of the spec- 
tators when at last the poor bull was wounded 
to death, while the finely shaped and agile 
matador was still unharmed. 

Boys barely in their teens are much more 
likely to think of the brilliant and thrilling 
side of such a sport than of its cruelty, and 
both Tommys begged Captain Warren, the 
next time they saw him, to take them to the 


IN A STRANGE LAND 


291 


forum for the next fight, or to allow them to 
go with Mr. Waters. 

To their keen disappointment, Captain 
Warren said that on no account would he 
allow them to look on at such a performance. 
He added: 

“ If there is anything hard or cruel in your 
natures, a bull-fight would bring it out and 
deepen it about as soon as anything I know 
of.” 

That ended the matter so far as any permis- 
sion was concerned. Both boys had wanted 
very much to see the sight, and Tommy Joyce, 
it must be confessed, was inclined to be sullen 
at the decided refusal. 

Willis Parker, quick to see the boy’s spirit, 
said to him when they happened to be by 
themselves : 

“ Why don’t you hook off and see a fight 
without saying anything about it? It’s gay, 
I tell you! All the fashion and show of the 
place is seen there.” 

“ Oh, I couldn’t,” Tommy replied. u Mr. 


292 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Waters watches us too closely. I couldn’t get 
the chance.” 

“Yes, you could,” persisted the older boy. 
“ Go to bed and pretend to go to sleep. The 
night performances are late. Wouldn’t the 
other boy go if you urged him?” 

“No, don’t believe you could hire him.” 

“ I suspected as much,” retorted Willis, 
with a sneering smile. “ But, if you really 
want to see the greatest, most stirring sight 
in the world in the way of sport, now’s your 
time. You’ll never forget it.” 

“ I’ll try it,” yielded Tommy, his strong 
will getting the better of him, and remember- 
ing how easily he had stolen out at night once 
before. 

Two nights afterward, when Tommy Joy 
was peacefully sleeping, Tommy Joyce crept 
out of the room without a sound, and slipped 
unobserved out of the hotel. 

The next day, Captain Warren took the 
boys out for a sail in a gondola, a gaily 


IN A STRANGE LAND 


293 


painted boat, that, under the management of 
two gondoliers, or rowers, skimmed the water 
like a duck. 

Never had Tommy Joy seen Tommy Joyce 
seem happier or in gayer spirits. His face 
wore one long smile from the moment of start- 
ing until their return. And yet, for all his 
beaming countenance, the boy was compara- 
tively quiet. 

After supper that night, the boys met Willis 
Parker in the hall, and, although both spoke 
pleasantly to him, he turned away with only 
a stiff, unfriendly nod. 

When they were in their room for the night, 
Tommy Joy asked: 

“ What made the Parker boy so huffy? ” 

“ Mad with me,” was Tommy Joyce’s short 
reply. 

“ Do you know what for? ” 

“ Reckon I do.” 

Then Tommy told of his continued desire 
to see a bull-fight, of the temptation Willis 
Parker set before him, and his resolve to see 


294 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

the sight He told of creeping out and meet- 
ing Willis at a certain corner. 

“ All at once,” Tommy went on, “ I thought 
what a mean sneak of a fellow I was, stealing 
off with a great boy I knew must be mean 
himself, and I wished I was back in my room. 

“ It’s funny,” chuckled Tommy, “ but all 
at once again I thought I’d got to choose once 
and forever, amen! — whether I’d be a small 
skulk of a boy, or whether I’d be a — a — • 
man! And I stopped right where I was on 
the sidewalk, and says to Willis Parker, ‘ I’m 
going back home.’ 

“ 1 What ails you, you little gump? ’ says 
he. 

“ ‘ I don’t care if you call me every horrid 
name you can think of,’ says I, 1 I’m going 
home, and I ain’t afraid of you, either.’ ” 

“That was first-rate!” said Tommy Joy, 
as he slapped a wet sponge over the back of 
his neck, as if in applause. “ Good for you, 
Tommy, that was — it was — first-rate!” 

“Well,” continued Tommy, grinning 


IN A STRANGE LAND 295 

widely, “ once I read in a goody-goody book 
about a fellow who was so good he made you 
sick. No matter what that pill wanted to do 
that wasn’t just square, he wouldn’t do it, 
and it kept telling what a vict’ry he had come 
over himself, and he was so happy,” — Tom- 
my’s voice took on a kind of wheedling scorn, 
— “oh, so happy! I thought he was just a 
little tom-fool saint that didn’t have a bit of 
fun, he was so tremendous, stupid good! 

“ But,” Tommy seemed suddenly confused, 
and stammered a little, “ but, though I should 
hate that made-up goody-goody boy just as 
much as ever,” — he jerked around, facing 
Tommy Joy squarely, — “it does make you 
happy to do the right thing, and I’m not a 
bit ashamed to own it, either, Tommy Joy! ” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


home: the tommy BROTHERS 

A MONTH sped by on the wings of the 
wind. Sightseeing, trips to other cities, les- 
sons, and entertainments had so crowded the 
time that the boys in their heedless enjoyment 
could scarcely believe that cruising and home- 
returning time had already arrived. 

Yet both hailed with delight the prospect 
of returning to the good ship, Susie Sinclair , 
as they took friendly leave of those at the 
hotel who had shown them many kindnesses. 

The lads had learned several Spanish 
words, but used only a few, such as “ gracias,” 
thank you; “ casa,” house; “ la comida,” the 
dinner; “ digame usted,” please tell me; and 
“ deme usted, n please give me. 

These were the words most frequently 

296 


HOME: THE TOMMY BROTHERS 297 

needed, for, if at the table they said in Span- 
ish, “ please give me,” they could point to 
what was wanted, so finishing the sentence 
with a gesture. To say “ thank you ” was 
one of the requirements of politeness here, the 
same as everywhere else. 

The Spaniards had not seemed a very happy 
people, their countenances for the most part 
being sad or morose. At first they appeared 
suspicious and distant where strangers were 
concerned, yet, after becoming acquainted, 
they grew friendly, hospitable, and quick to 
do a favor. 

The queer breakfasts, made up chiefly of 
solid chocolate and sweet cakes, were quite 
to the liking of the boys. 

Ah, but it was pleasant to be aboard the 
Susie Sinclair again, and this time soon bound 
for home. 

“ We’ll skip up the harbor before long,” 
exclaimed Tommy Joyce, a bright sparkle in 
his eyes. “Jolly, won’t my folks think I’m 
improved ! ” 


298 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 


The Tommys giggled at this frank speech, 
as they were inclined to at everything, they 
felt so gay. 

Each had written letters home directly on 
arriving at Cadiz, — Tommy Joyce to his 
father and mother, Tommy Joy to Mr. Frank- 
fort and Mr. Sudbury. 

On shipboard, Sam Slicer gave them bois- 
terous welcome, hollering out: 

“Avast there, shipmates! Coming to help 
man the Susie , as she trips it home-ud 
bound? ” 

Mammy Libby held up dusky hands, as she 
piped, melodiously: 

“ ‘ Lorr 5 bress de whole caboodle ! 

Hail Columby, Yankee doodle ! ’ 

Ef here isn’t de deah li’l men come back fo’ 
to eat de cakes an’ help de ole ship heel an’ 
toe it back to de home-lan’! ” 

Nat Lorrin held up two plum tarts, nod- 
ding and showing all his ivories. 

“ Thought that would be a welcome kind 


home: the tommy brothers 299 

o’ welcome,” he said, as the rich little pies 
were quickly grabbed. Regular rules on 
shipboard had not begun. 

Mr. Hemming shook hands heartily with 
the lads, whom he had seen only two or three 
times while in port. 

Then came sailing, lessons, sport, and one 
great storm. Again the vessel, all “ un- 
dressed,” rocked and strained, creaked and 
groaned, as the wild winds shrilled through 
the dismantled masts. Again Mammy Libby 
insisted on being piloted over to the state- 
rooms of the boys, declaring they needed com- 
forting. 

This time the nearly fearless lads felt sure 
that mammy herself was trembling with fear, 
as she began in her honey-like croon: 

“ Now, doan you po’ li’l pick’ninnies go 
to gettin’ scairt! De deah Lorr’ Gord, he tek 
care ob us all de same in de sunshine an’ de 
storm. You said yo’ prayers, chillerns?” 

One boy confessed to having said them the 


300 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

day before, the other remained prudently 
silent. 

“ Doan ebber fergit dem,” preached 
mammy. “You doan want de good Farder 
in heb’n to go a-fergettin’ you, oh no! Den 
doan you go a-fergettin’ him, — listen to dat 
now!” she cried, interrupting herself, as the 
tempest went with a wild screech overhead, 
as if indeed evil spirits were holding a revel 
in the air. It was a hard, stern night, and, 
when mammy’s voice failed her, — she said 
the wind made her hoarse, — the boys talked, 
told stories, and pitched about the staterooms, 
laughing at their forced antics, and altogether 
cheered the heart of the kind-hearted old col- 
ored woman. All were glad when morning 
broke and the wind went down. 

No one had reason to complain of either 
lad on the return trip. Their staterooms were 
pictures of neatness, their lessons well learned, 
and each lad had proved himself a capital 
young sailor. 

One day, as the slow voyage was nearing 


HOME: THE TOMMY BROTHERS 301 

an end, the boys, after having put their heads 
together in a long confab, went to Captain 
Warren with the announcement: 

“ If you please, sir, we want to ask you 
something.” 

“ All right, lads, go ahead, but don’t be too 
hard on me. Remember, I haven’t been 
studying all the way over and all the way 
back!” 

Both giggled a little nervously, then 
Tommy Joyce said, bravely: 

“ We want to know if you won’t please ask 
my father to let us come on the next voyage 
of the Susie Sinclair. We don’t either of us 
want to stay on land yet; we like the sea too 
much. We’ll study like sharks if you will! ” 

Captain Warren’s broad shoulders gave a 
shake of laughter. 

“ I never asked a boy’s father yet to let me 
take him to sea,” he said. 

“Oh!” cried Tommy, seeing his mistake. 
“ I mean, won’t you let us go if my father 
teases you to take us?” 


302 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ Can’t make any promises,” replied the 
captain. “ Better wait and talk it over at 
home.” 

And so the boys could only take the cap- 
tain’s advice and wait, but when they told Mr. 
Waters how much they wanted to keep on the 
water, he said, kindly: 

“ I have taken great pleasure in teaching 
you both and for my part would be very will- 
ing to keep on.” 

It was a great day for our boys when the 
good ship Susie Sinclair went riding safely 
to her moorings at the wide dock at Tea 
Wharf. 

The lads at the same moment spied Mr. 
Joyce and Mr. Frankfort, each watching im- 
patiently for a glimpse of his particular 
Tommy. Handkerchiefs were waved long 
before the vessel was made fast, and the slant- 
ing gang-plank placed. Then there were 
greetings of the heartiest, gladdest kind. 

After Tommy Joy had talked long with 


home: the tommy brothers 303 

Mr. Frankfort, he found that Mr. Joyce and 
Tommy stood waiting for him. 

What was to come next? Tommy had won- 
dered several times in his berth on the Susie 
Sinclair what he would do when the beautiful 
trip was over. He had seen the Peggy Lane 
“ laying to,” as they moved up to the wharf, 
and remembered the snug bunk aboard, but 
it somehow did not seem as nice now as it 
used to. And he had not forgotten the prom- 
ises Mr. Joyce had made. 

“ Come, Tommy, most ready? ” called 
Tommy Joyce. 

“ Ready for what? ” 

“ Why, to come home,” answered Tommy 
Joyce, in the most matter-of-fact tone. “ My 
mother is waiting in a hack at the top of the 
wharf, and of course you’re to come home 
with us. Papa’s going to wait to see Captain 
Warren and Mr. Waters as soon as he can.” 

Mr. Frankfort told Tommy to hurry on, 
and he would see him again sometime. 

So, in a comfortable carriage, Tommy 


304 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

Joyce was soon hugging a pretty and young- 
looking lady, who cried with joy at seeing 
her precious boy again. She spoke very 
kindly also to the other Tommy, noticing with 
pleasure what a refined and good face the 
boy had. 

The carriage rolled up Beacon Road, and 
stopped before a fine mansion, where the boys 
sprang out, and Tommy Joyce assisted his 
mother to alight, with all the grace of quite 
a finished little gentleman. 

By this time Tommy Joy had become ac- 
customed to a degree to seeing and using 
nice things, but this lovely home, with its 
thick, soft carpets, splendid mirrors, costly 
furniture, its laces, statuary, and rare paint- 
ings, really it was like a study in art to the 
boy, who found he greatly admired it all. 

Yes, there must have been good blood in 
Tommy Joy’s veins, for, after all, he was 
neither awkward nor confused when he found 
himself in a grand house, and being waited 
on by trained servants. 


home: the tommy brothers 305 

The accounts Mr. Joyce received from 
Captain Warren and Mr. Waters were such 
as to make his heart rejoice. The captain told 
of Mr. Hemming’s sharp raps, and his own 
occasional punishments. But Mr. Joyce 
spoke only words of thanks and approval. 

And when Tommy showed himself a gen- 
tleman in the home, no longer rude, wilful, 
or overbearing, his parents could not be too 
thankful for the change that had seemed to 
come about as if by magic. Nor were they 
so dull as not to see and feel the influence of 
that other boy, whom they called “ the other 
Tommy.” 

But the surprise came, and an unwelcome 
surprise it was, when Tommy Joyce began 
begging to be allowed to go to sea again. His 
father looked disappointed, as he said: 

“ I was in hopes you would be delighted 
to remain at home, settle down and attend 
school here in town, and be a comfort to father 
and mother. You know the other Tommy 
will stay with you.” 


306 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

“ I shall stay if you say so, papa/’ was the 
sturdy reply, “ but I’ve set my heart on an- 
other voyage. I never felt so well in my life 
as I did on the water, and it was just jolly 
studying with Mr. Waters.” 

He added with the old coaxing way that 
he used often to make winsome with his 
mother: 

“ Honor bright, daddy, if you’ll let Tommy 
and me go on the next voyage of the Susie 
Sinclair , I won’t ask to go again, but I’ll do 
whatever you want me to after that. Mr. 
Waters loves to teach. He said he would 
like to keep on with us.” 

u But I understand, my dear boy, that the 
next journey will be to India, taking nearly 
a year’s time.” 

“ Yes, and when we come back Mr. Waters 
will have us ready for the second year of the 
high school. Most fellows enter at fourteen, 
but we should be a grade ahead. Mr. Waters 
said we could do it easily.” 

At first the parents could not bring their 


HOME: THE TOMMY BROTHERS 307 

minds to give consent. But after Mr. Joyce 
had talked with Colonel Larrington one after- 
noon, he began to feel differently. The colo- 
nel was considerably older than Mr. Joyce, 
and had brought up a large family of chil- 
dren. 

“ Best thing that could possibly be done for 
the lad,” he said, emphatically, “ to keep him 
out of the way of temptation for the next year. 
He is at a restless age. If the boy wants to 
go to sea again, and is willing to study under 
an able teacher, think of the vast advantage 
of letting him learn and observe at the same 
time. Why, Mr. Lossing, president of our 
bank, said to me the other day he would give 
almost anything if he could induce his Frank 
to get out of the city for the next year. Frank 
is about the age of your son, I take it.” 

Then, after seeing and talking with Mr. 
Waters again, and thinking of Tommy’s im- 
proved health and really unexpected desire 
to study, Mr. Joyce decided to let the boy 


308 TOMMY JOYCE AND TOMMY JOY 

sail again, and talked his wife over into feel- 
ing much the same as he did. 

“ The boy has done well,” the mate had 
said. “ He has a better disposition than when 
he came to us, and has made a fine start in 
the right direction in every way. As for the 
other lad, he has one of those rare natures that 
easy sailing will not spoil. I wouldn’t sep- 
arate them at present if I were you. I think 
Captain Warren would not refuse to take 
them again.” 

So, late one afternoon in the spring, Tommy 
Joyce said to Tommy Joy: 

“All ready to embark to-morrow?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Did you manage to find your college 
friends? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What did they say about the India voy- 
age?” 

“ Said I was a lucky chap.” 


home: the tommy brothers 309 

“ Did you see Mr. Frankfort and Captain 
Swart? ” 

“ Sure! ” 

“ What did they think of it? ” 

“ Captain Swart said I was the lucky little 
dog, and Mr. Frankfort said that was prime, 
just prime! ” 

Tommy lowered his voice: 

“ Did you tell Mr. Frankfort what Daddy 
Joyce said about keeping you for my 
brother? ” 

“ Yes, and he slapped my back like fury, 
swallowed hard, and said: ‘ God bless you, 
man-child! God bless you! ’ ” 


THE END. 















IUN 1 1905 





















































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































